Take Me Away
by Isabella GL
Summary: Sequel of "The Things That Bind Us Together" taking place in the same alternate universe. Holly and Roger embark on their year-long honeymoon around the world. Along the way, they will have to discover what their love is truly made of. Left to their own devices in Springfield, Ethan, Blake and Jessica will continue to experience the trials of love as well...
1. A Fortnight in Paris

"Is it cheesy that I wanted to bring you here for our last night in Paris?" Roger said as he embraced Holly and planted a kiss in the nape of her neck.

Holly tilted her head back and gazed at the Eiffel tower, which was elegantly shooting upward in the evening sky. "It is cheesy, but I love it anyway," she finally said, smiling. "I never get tired of looking at it."

"Paris was the perfect start for our honeymoon, even if we didn't get to visit as much as we should have, don't you think?" Roger asked, thinking of all the afternoons they had spent exploring each other's body instead of going out. He took her hand and led her through the animated city streets. It was a warm night at the beginning of May and Paris was in bloom. Cafés were bustling with activity, people overflowing from the terraces unto the streets, and Roger and Holly found themselves more in love than ever.

They had gotten married at Easter in Springfield, in a simple outdoors ceremony at Laurel Falls, surrounded by family and friends. Ethan, Jessica and Blake had attended, of course, in the front row. Ed, Maureen, Rick and Michelle were also among the guests, as well as Ross, Gilly Grant, Nadine, Dylan and Billy Lewis, Johnny Bauer, Chelsea Reardon and many of Holly's colleagues from WSPR. Roger had been surprised by the length of Holly's guest list, he who had been on the move for most of his life and who had kept very few friends. He had, however, always remained very close to one fellow agent from his years at the CIA, and was overjoyed when he who he considered his best friend had agreed to be his best man as well.

Jack Kingsley was his name, and he had caused quite a stir in the female crowd when he had shown up next to Roger at the falls, straight from his home in Montana. The man was tall, dark and handsome; in short, the perfect embodiment of the strong silent type. Fortunately for the two friends, the difference in their personality had always prevented any real competition between them, especially when it came to women. Jack's extreme good looks were not always a match for Roger's charm and cockiness, and during their years as single men, they both had swept away their equal shares of enthralled females. Roger could only hope that Jack would one day find his own true love and be as lucky as he had been with Holly.

As for Holly, she had juggled with different possibilities before settling on a maid of honour. She had finally asked Alexandra Spaulding, who was the only one in town who could qualify as a close female friend. Alexandra, with her usual bluntness, had declined, saying that she would be pleased to fulfill any other functions at the wedding, but that the role of maid of honor really should go to Holly's true best friend, Ross. The lawyer, always a good sport, had accepted on the condition that he could pick out the color of his dress. That point settled, Holly had debated on whether or not she should ask Ed to give her away, and had decided against it in the end not to make Roger feel uncomfortable. She had gone down the aisle alone, holding a bouquet of white lilies, in a creation by Mindy Lewis which Roger would only vaguely remember to be ivory, silky and flowy.

The ceremony and reception had been filled with laughter, toasts and music, and had gone by in a flash. The same had happened to the following month, where Roger and Holly had busied themselves with helping Blake settling into her apartment over Ed's garage and preparing for their year-long trip. By the time they had boarded their plane to Paris, they had been exhausted and had happily spent the two first weeks of their honeymoon sleeping, making love and spending time with Jessica, who was studying for the semester in the City of Light.

That night was their last in France and the next morning, they would be leaving for Prague, their second destination. Thus, they were determined to make up for "lost time" in Paris by making their last night one to remember. They had made reservations in one of the best restaurants in the city and were on their way to meet Jessica, who had reluctantly agreed to spend the evening with them.

"I can't tag along on your honeymoon, how pathetic is that?" She had complained to Roger when he had called her up earlier in the day.

"Don't' be silly, sweety. Holly and I will be gone for a long while after that and we'll miss you like crazy. I command you to join us," he had said before cracking up.

"As if you could still tell me what to do," she had answered, agreeing to meet them nonetheless.

"I know, dear, that's why I'm laughing."

* * *

"Holly Norris? Is that really you?" a female voice with a thick French accent called from the table next to them a few hours later. Roger and Holly had just finished downing a dozen of oysters at Fouquet's, the classiest eatery on the Avenue des Champs-Élizées, while Jessica looked on, sipping champagne and torn between disgust and curiosity.

Holly's head turned around sharply, unacustomed to hear her maiden name, while Roger followed her gaze intriguingly. A slender and sophisticated brunette he guessed to be about Holly's age rose to hug his wife warmly, soon imitated by a man with striking blue eyes who appeared to be her husband. They both looked genuinely happy to see her, thought there was a haggard look in their eyes that struck Roger as out of place in such a joyful setting as this.

"Catherine! Thierry! What a surprise!" Holly exclaimed after hugging them back effusively. "This is incredible!" She turned to Roger and Jessica with a wide smile to make the introductions. "These two used to be my best friends when I studied in Geneva."

"Is that so?" Roger said after a few seconds, pushing his chair aside to make way for them. "Please join us then; any friend of my wife is welcomed at our table," he added pleasantly.

"Yes, please do, we haven't spoken in ages," Holly said, making them sit to her right. "I see that you two have gotten married after all," she said, taking a look at Catherine's left hand, which was adorned with a tasteful wedding band. The latter smiled, apparently cheering up, while Thierry put an arm around her shoulders. "Still can't take my eyes off her, and it's been more than twenty years!" he said proudly with the same Parisian accent which made Jessica smile inwardly.

"And obviously, you have found happiness as well. I'm so glad for you, Holly," Catherine said, her eyes going from her friend to Roger and Jessica. There was an expression in her eyes which made Roger wonder how much she knew about him and Holly's predicament back in Switzerland. He supposed that the three friends had met right after Holly had given birth to Blake and had gone back to school to finish university.

Holly laughed. "Yes, I am extremely happy, although I suspect that my path hasn't been as straightforward as yours. But I have two beautiful children now, and a wonderful step-daughter," she said, caressing Jessica's hair. "Roger and I just got married, actually."

"Really?" Thierry exclaimed, turning to a waiter and ordering another bottle of champagne. "Have you two known each other long?"

Holly blushed while Roger answered: "We've known each other for a very long time. Life has gotten in the way of us being together sooner, that's all."

"They were each other's first love," Jessica added with a knowing look.

This time, there was no mistaking the look the couple exchanged with Holly, and if Roger had any lingering doubts that they knew exactly who he was, they were quelled by Holly's next remark. "Yes, Roger and I have found each other again. And we find our daughter, Blake, too. This is a long story, however, and I'm afraid there is no time to tell it tonight."

"Oh, Holly," Catherine simply said, her eyes getting misty. "I understand."

She was prevented by saying more by the waiters who were bringing the main course. It took them several minutes before they could tear themselves away from their plates to rekindle the conversation, and Roger took the opportunity to put some orders in his thoughts. It felt very unsettling to be in presence of two people who obviously knew more than him about a part of Holly's life that had be so decisive and trying for her. For the first time since learning about Blake's existence, he felt the weight of the years Holly and he had spent apart. There was still so much that he had to discover about his wife, and she about him.

"Tell me, how was Holly as a student?" Jessica asked between two mouthfuls, brutally interrupting her father's musings.

"Ah! Very studious, very dedicated," Thierry answered with a smile. "We would always have to beg her to come out with us and party."

"But she would always say yes in the end," Catherine added with a wink.

"All the guys were after her, too. That is, those who weren't pining after Catherine,"

"I found that extremely easy to believe," Roger said, running a hand along Holly's thigh under the table and gazing fondly into his wife's eyes.

"Did you have a lot of boyfriends?" Jessica asked her step-mother curiously.

"No, not really," Holly stammered. "Just one."

"Paul," Catherine specified. Her brow darkened as she looked at her husband. He returned her gaze and squeezed her hand, shaking his head slightly. Roger raised his head in sudden interest at the mention of Holly's ex-fiancé. He knew that her engagement to Paul had been short-lived, due to Holly's lingering feelings for him, but that was about it. He was definitely eager to learn more about the mysterious Frenchman who had almost whisked the young Holly off her feet more than two decades ago.

"Did you keep in touch with him?" Holly asked Thierry and Catherine.

The couple exchanged another look before Thierry cleared his throat. "We have; he's one of our closest friends still to this day."

"What's wrong? Why do you look so upset?" Holly inquired, finally catching on to their altered mood.

"Paul has disappeared. We're afraid that something might have happened to him," Catherine explained.

"What do you mean, he disappeared?" Roger asked, his agent training kicking in automatically.

"Paul is an engineer, one of the best. The problem is, he also a little too quick to speak his mind. He's been working in Russia for a couple of years now, and in the last few months, he has become more and more at odds with the contractors who hired him. I think that he stumbled about something that he shouldn't have, and instead of keeping quiet about it, he confronted them."

"Not a smart move when you think of the corruption going on in that country," Roger said.

"Exactly. He wouldn't tell me what was going on, so I advised him to just get the hell out of there, but he wouldn't listen. And then one week before Christmas, he just stopped calling."

"We haven't heard from him since," Catherine added, the haggard look that Roger had noticed earlier creeping up in her eyes again.

"Are the police looking for him?" Holly asked in an anxious tone, squeezing her husband's hand convulsively.

"They say they do, but I've been to Russia, and it seems to me like nothing is really being done. The French ambassador is putting some pressure, but nothing has come of it yet."

Roger shook his head but kept silent. From what he had learned during his years with the CIA, Russia could be a tough and uncompromising country. Their friend could be in a big trouble, that is, if he was still alive, which he doubted.

* * *

They parted soon after, promising to call and to visit, and giving each other words of encouragement that Paul would turn up safe and sound in the end. Roger and Holly then dropped Jessica at her dorm and went back to their hotel.

Closing the door of their room behind them, Roger followed his wife inside and walked up to her. He could see from her frown that she was still thinking about Paul's disappearance.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked, slowly caressing her soft curls while she stood by the window, staring at the city lights.

"I guess. This is so awful, though," Holly replied, turning to face him and snuggling into his arms.

"It is. This guy sounds like a regular hero," Roger said, feeling slightly jealous and ashamed because of it.

"Yeah, but look where it has led him," Holly said. She shook her head as if waking from a dream and took her husband's hands. "God I'm glad that I found you again!" she cried before kissing him urgently.

He returned her kiss before looking into her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, leading her to their bed and turning off the lights.


	2. Swans, Fights and Rock'n'roll

**Springfield**

A couple of days later, back in Springfield, Blake was enjoying an afternoon nap on her couch when high-pitched notes from an electric guitar caused her to wake up with a start. She sat down slowly and rubbed her face, and it took her a few seconds to remember that she was now living in her new apartment over Ed Bauer's garage. The garage, she thought with exasperation, where her dear brother practiced almost every day with his rock band.

She gathered her hair up in a ponytail and put her shoes on, then went out and took the stairs that led to the garage. She opened the door and yelled to cover the loud music: "I'm trying to sleep here!"

Ethan turned to the door and stopped playing his guitar. Next to him, David Grant, put his bass down sheepishly. It took a few more seconds, however, for Nate Young, Ethan's best friend, to realize that Blake was there and to put down his drumsticks. For a few seconds, nothing could be heard besides the buzzing coming from the amplifiers.

"Did we wake you?" Ethan asked, looking almost guilty, but not quite.

"What do you think? That I sleepwalked here? Of course you woke me!" Blake shouted, in a foul mood. There was nothing she hated more than to be interrupted in the middle of a pleasant dream. She walked to the battered green couch sitting in a corner of the garage and dropped on it. Several instruments, speakers and music sheets were lying around, taking half the garage space, forcing Maureen to squeeze her car in at the far end, and Ed to park outside. Despite the inconvenience, the two adults felt that it was better than for Ethan and his mates to play inside the house.

"We're going to have to work out a schedule, you know. You guys have been practicing every day for the last three weeks!" Blake said, still half-awake.

"I know it's a bummer for you, but we have nowhere else to go! We don't have any money to rent a place, and we have a show coming up in two weeks, with tons of new songs to learn," Ethan said, putting his guitar down and sitting next to his sister.

"I have been working crazy long hours at my new job, Ethan. I need my sleep. You guys are all on summer break; surely we can come up with a compromise!"

"How about we only practice in the afternoon during the week, when you're at work? Would that help?" David suggested.

"And if you go out during the weekend, let us know and we'll take advantage of it," Nate added, running a hand through his jet black hair.

"That could work, I suppose," Blake replied.

Ethan nudged her in the ribs to get her to smile. "Sorry we woke you, Sis, I really am! Now that you're here, though, do you want to hear us play and tell us what you think?"

"Fine," Blake said, settling more comfortably on the couch. Despite her complaints, she actually enjoyed her brother's music. The sound was raw and grungy, reminding her of the west coast bands she had grown up with, and the lyrics were surprisingly mature, given that they were written by a twenty-year-old. While she listened to the first song, a ballad, her mind wandered to the last few months.

Her life had changed drastically since meeting her biological parents, Holly and Roger, as well as her brother Ethan and her sister Jessica. She had soon felt the need to get closer to them by leaving San Francisco, where she had grown up, to move to Springfield. The fact that she had met and fell for Dylan Lewis during her earlier visits was no stranger to her desire to relocate either. However, she found herself having a hard time adjusting to her new life. She missed her city; the streetcars going up and down the streets, and the Golden Gate Bridge. She even missed the fog.

And, whereas she loved Dylan, she had discovered by practically living with him that their relationship was much stormier than she had expected. They were both stubborn and opinionated, which made them get into daily arguments about the most trivial things. These fights almost always ended up in intense make-up sex, as they were both also very passionate. Blake wondered, however, if their physical attraction would be enough to make the relationship last in the long run.

Her other problem was that she missed her parents and their support. She never would have dreamed of interfering with Roger and Holly's plans to leave for an extended trip, but deep down inside, she was rattled by the fact that they had decided to leave so soon after she had moved in. She shook her head, as always when she ended up thinking about them, and reminded herself that they were all adults and that her parents certainly deserved this time alone together.

Fortunately for her, she had found a job that she truly enjoyed, and it helped her taking her mind off things. After applying and interviewing for several positions in public relations, including at Apple, she had opted to go work at Spaulding Enterprises as a junior executive. Her main focus was on the Spaulding Foundation, which made her daily work challenging yet gratifying. It also allowed her to make a new friend in the person of Alan-Michael Spaulding, whom she discovered was a kindred spirit when it came to business.

"So, will you stop biting your nails and tell us what you think?" Ethan said, interrupting her train of thoughts.

Blake dropped her hand, looking embarrassed. Luckily for her, she was always good at multitasking and had been able to take her brother's musical experiments in while she was musing over her life.

"It's good, it really is," she said slowly. "But something's off." Ethan's smile faded after her last comment.

"What do you mean?" David said.

"The sound is great and the lyrics too. It's the vocals that don't do it for me."

Nate and David winced and glanced at the lead singer, Ethan, and Blake could tell that they shared her opinion.

"You mean MY voice?" Ethan said, his face falling.

"Yeah, I know it sounds harsh, but I think that it might me a good idea to maybe try and find someone else to sing? What do you guys think?" Blake said, turning to the others.

They both nodded, staring at their feet. "Gee, thanks for being honest guys! You could have told me sooner instead of letting me sing my heart out every day for the last year!" Ethan said, putting his guitar down.

"We didn't want to piss you off," David said.

"And it's not that bad either!" Nate added, which made Blake put a hand in front of her face to hide her smile.

"That's it; I'm putting a small ad in tomorrow's newspapers for a new lead singer." Ethan said, making a face. "I don't want our band to be "not that bad"; I want it to be great!" Deep down, the young man had to admit that he was a little bit relieved by the turn of events. He had become the singer by default, but he was much more at ease with a guitar than with a mic.

Blake got up and walked to the door. "Well, if you want it to be great, you might want to rethink the name also, because I'm telling you, "The Bullfrogs" just won't cut it."

* * *

**Prague**

At the same moment, Holly and Roger were standing on the breath-taking Charles Bridge, which crossed the Vltava River. On one side of the bridge stood the Prague Castle; on the other side was the old town. As she watched the sun go down and the sky slowly turn to a deep purple, Holly could only think of the word "magical" to describe the city that she had just discovered. The mix of baroque and gothic architectures gave a fairy-tale quality to the narrow and winding streets that she and Roger had been exploring all day.

"Look, swans!" she exclaimed, excited like a little girl as she pointed down at the river bank, where several white birds were peacefully resting.

Roger laughed and stood behind her, his arms around her waist. "Yeah, they're pretty common here. Not the brightest of animals either, actually," he said. He had been stationed in Prague for a couple of years as an agent and had insisted that they include the city on their tour, suspecting that Holly would fall in love with it. He was glad to discover that he had been right.

"That's it, rain on my parade," Holly replied, falsely offended. "What should we do tonight? I hear the nightlife is pretty wild in Prague," she added, running her fingers along Roger's forearms.

"You want to go to a nightclub?" Roger said, with a hint of surprise in his voice.

Holly turned to him and rested against the bridge wall, glancing at him with what he could only qualify as a naughty smile. "I could put my heels on and that strapless blue dress that you bought for me in Paris. Don't you want to?"

Roger gaped at her for a few seconds, images of her in the said blue dress running through his head at the speed of light. "Well, I want to NOW," he finally said.

Holly grabbed his shirt and gently pulled her to him so that he rested his hands on the bridge on each side of her. "Or, we could go to a nice restaurant, and then I could dance for you after…in our room," she whispered in her soft alto voice.

Roger swallowed hard. At this rate, he would never make it back to their room at all. He focused on the less erotic thing in sight, namely the statue of some obscure priest standing next to them on the bridge and staring down at Roger with what seemed to him as accusing eyes. "Yeah, let's do that…what you said," he finally answered, looking away from the stony ecclesiastic.

Holly's tingling laugh rang in his ears, bringing a smile to his lips. She obviously loved the effect that she had on him. "You're driving me crazy, you know that?" he said, kissing her on the lips.

"What are wives for?" she said, before kissing him back.

He pulled her closer for a split second, just long enough for her to feel the intensity of his desire for her. "You might be the one losing your head tonight," he said.

"I hope so," she replied, gazing straight into his eyes. She pulled away from him and started to slowly walk back to the old town, where their hotel was located. Roger followed a few feet behind her, watching the last sunbeams catching her red hair. "My beautiful, fiery wife," he thought to himself as he picked up the pace to join her, proud as a peacock.

"Do you have a restaurant in mind, or should we just drop all pretenses and order room service?" Holly said as they walked side by side, holding hands.

Roger laughed and shook his head. "Let's restrain our other appetites for a couple of hours; it will be worth it, I promise! I know the perfect, most romantic little Russian restaurant, and it is right next to our hotel."

"Right," Holly said, her expression becoming suddenly morose.

"What? You don't like Russian food?"

Holly shook her head. "I'm sure it's delicious. It's just that it made me think of Paul when you mentioned Russia, that's all."

Roger's heart sank. He would have been blind not to notice Holly's mood swings since she had learned about her ex-fiancé's disappearance a couple of days ago. A part of him strived to be understanding, while the other wondered how much one could worry about someone one had not seen in more than twenty years.

"I wish there was something that I could say to take your mind off this guy," he finally said, a little more curtly than he had intended.

Holly stopped in her tracks and stared at him with raised eyebrows. "Well, excuse me for wondering if a friend of mine is dead or alive!"

"Not just any friend, Hol, an ex-lover. I mean, should I be worried or something?"

Holly shook her head in disbelief. "Are you for real? Please, don't tell me that you're jealous of Paul."

Roger stared at the river, knowing that he was about to pour oil on the fire but unable to stop himself. "We're on our honeymoon, and all you think about is this guy you used to date!"

Holly threw her hands in the air in frustration. "First of all, that's not true! Second of all, I'm concerned about a fellow human being, but I guess it's impossible for you to grasp, since you're incapable of showing an iota of empathy! She walked passed him, fury in her eyes.

"Wait a minute! I care about people!" he shouted, following her.

"You care about exactly five people in the whole world, including yourself, and that's a problem," she retorted over her shoulder. "Has the agency made you that cold-hearted, or have you always been like that?"

Roger slowed his pace then eventually stopped and stood still. It now seemed to him that all thirty statues erected on the bridge were peering at him reproachfully. "Crap," he muttered to himself. If Holly's words stung so much, it's because he had to admit that there was a ring of truth to them. He gladly would have laid his life at the feet of the people that he loved, but didn't care much whether the others lived or died. He vaguely remembered that it had been one of Peggy's, his first wife, many grievances against him. He didn't know why or how he had grown to be like this; certainly being with the CIA had played a part in hardening him against the suffering of others. If this would prove to cause dissensions between Holly and him, however, he quickly decided then and there that he would have to do something about it.

Looking up, he broke into a job and headed down the road that she had taken.

* * *

He caught up with her in their room, where he found her sitting on the bed, obviously still furious about their fight.

He sat beside her and put an arm around her shoulders, which she shrugged away.

"I've been an asshole, I know," he offered after a few seconds.

"Really, you're just too much sometimes, Rog," she finally sighed. "I don't know whether you're jealous of Paul or just plain oblivious to what's happening to him, but either way I wish that you would reconsider your attitude."

Roger looked at his hands, gathering his thoughts so that the words would come out right. "Am I jealous of Paul? A little bit, I'll admit, but don't tell me that it's not normal or that it's unhealthy, because I don't think that it is. If you must know, I'm also a little jealous of Ed and of Ross too, now that I know that you two have been lovers a few years ago. These men have known you, and been close to you, and LOVED you in a time where you wouldn't have given me the time of day. When I think of all those lost years, I'm a little bitter, I'll admit. Is that so wrong?"

Holly's face softened at the sound of his words. She probed her own heart before replying: "No, I guess not."

He turned to her, daring to look in her eyes now that he sensed that she was thawing toward him. "Aren't you just a little bit jealous of Peggy, or of Susan, sometimes?" he continued, as if reading her thoughts.

Holly rolled her eyes and shook her head, slightly mortified. "Maybe." They looked at each other and smiled.

"But we can't go back and change things, honey," she added after a while. "We did live apart and we loved other people in our own way, and we have to deal with that. If it can make things easier for you, though, I can tell you that I loved you then and that I love you now. I loved you even when I thought that you didn't care about me at all. You've always been the one, Roger; surely you know that by now."

Roger's heart swelled and threatened to burst from joy. "I'll try to get that into that thick skull of mine," he said, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. Holly gently caressed his cheek and then got up to go to the dresser and prepare for their night out.

"Let's not fight anymore, okay?" she said, sitting in front of the mirror, brushing her hair. He joined her and started to rub her shoulders.

"Agreed. And listen, about me being cold-hearted and dead inside and all that-"

"Roger," she interrupted him, a definite note of warning in her voice.

"Hear me out! You were right before on the bridge, but I really want to try and change that if I can help it. How about I give some calls to the people I know that are still at the agency? Some of them are still working in Eastern Europe; maybe they saw or heard something about Paul. Would you like that?"

Holly looked at her husband's reflection in the mirror and smiled. She knew that he was doing this solely to please her and not from the kindness of his heart, but she decided to settle for that, and to be glad about it. His love for her meant the world to her, and she couldn't imagine living without it.

"I'd love it, thank you." She got up and went to the wardrobe. "Now, why don't you close the curtains and go sit tight on the bed. I believe there is a blue dress that I have to try on for you."


	3. The Kids Are Not Alright

_Note: Okay, this is where I should tell you that the third segment of this chapter is Rated M (there is a fourth segment after that). So, if you are not into that, feel free NOT to read it. For all the others, I kept it tasteful, at least I hope so!_

* * *

**A week later, Paris**

Jessica looked outside the window and sighed. The classroom was crowded and stuffy, and she was having a hard time concentrating on the lecture at hand, which explained the different functions of the liver. She thought of Ethan, whom she knew had finished his own semester two weeks ago already, in sighed again, this time with envy. She still had one more week to go before school ended, but it seemed like an eternity to her. After that, there would be a couple more weeks when she would travel to the South of France with friends before coming back to Springfield.

She considered her approaching return to the United States with mixed feelings. She did miss Ethan and her friends, there was no question about that, but her old life now seemed tame and predictable in comparison to her last few months in Europe. Paris, with its theaters, museums, endless shops and cafés, had delivered on its promises and had proved to be as exciting as Jessica had expected. For the first time in her life, she was on her own and it made her feel like a whole new, more mature and confident person. To top it off, she was fairly certain that she would excel at her final exams once again, a feat which would crown her whole experience with success.

She jumped, startled by a noise coming out of her teacher, Professor Lillier, who stood in front of the room, and tried valiantly to concentrate once again, but to no avail. Jessica and her college mates had quickly agreed after their day of class that old Lillier had to be the single most boring human being on the planet. He delivered his lectures in a flat voice, punctuated by loud grunts whose primary function seemed to be to prevent the students from falling asleep.

Fortunately, most of her other teachers were much more interesting, she thought as she shuffled through her notes. Especially Professor Valois, she mused before sighing for the third time, but this time with embarrassment. His specialty was neurosurgery, a career path that Jessica hoped to follow one day when she would become a doctor. She had therefore been fascinated with his lectures from the start. Contrary to Professor Lillier, Christian Valois knew how to keep the students riveted to his words, passing on his extensive knowledge through anecdotes from his life in the OR, some of which seemed to originate more from a television show than real life. To her utter mortification, however, Jessica had to admit that the fact that he was still in his early thirties, single and handsome played a major part in his appeal. It wasn't that he was strikingly good-looking in the classical sense of the word, but his devastating charm and his warm smile made him irresistible in eyes of many of his students and colleges.

Jessica had never been a flirt and usually barely noticed the stares she would often gather from the male crowd. That is, until she felt Christian Valois's eyes on her at the end of the first class he had given her. That admiring look had been followed by other stolen glances during the course of the semester; but aside from that, the professor had always remained extremely proper, even distant, toward her. As for the young woman, she made a point of never lingering after the class was dismissed, and to ask her questions to others students rather than to go to him. For the first time in her life, Jessica's heart pulled her in two opposite directions, and she hated it.

"Just one more class to go, and then he'll be out of my life forever," she thought, staring outside the window again.

* * *

**Later that day, Springfield**

« You two will stay for dinner, won't you? » Maureen said as she diced tomatoes before dropping them in a huge salad bowl.

Blake looked at Dylan to see if he agreed, then nodded with a smile. They had spent that Saturday afternoon with Michelle, taking her to the amusement park at the outskirts of Springfield, and were now enjoying a cup of coffee at Maureen's kitchen table.

"It's smells so good in here, how can we refuse!" Blake said.

"Let me just go get a bottle of wine, or dessert maybe?" Dylan said, getting up and picking his car keys on the table.

Maureen waved her hands dismissively before tossing the salad. "No need for that; this is just a casual dinner with a few friends. Besides, I want to thank you for taking Michelle out of my hair and to the park so that I could get a few things done around here. She said she had a great time."

"Oh yeah, we all did, except maybe with the last roller coaster that we tried. This one was a bit much, even for me," Dylan replied, shaking his head in recollection.

"You cried like a girl!" Michelle said behind him. She had just got down from changing in her room upstairs.

"Who else is coming over?" Blake inquired after grabbing Michelle and tousling the little girl's hair.

"Ethan and Rick, of course. I also invited Alan-Michael, Philip, Beth, and Ross," Maureen said, holding up fingers as she enumerated the names.

"You call that a casual dinner?" Blake said, laughing.

"Of course! I made lasagna and a lemon pie, nothing fancy!"

A few minutes after, Ethan barged into the kitchen with his guitar strapped on his shoulder, followed by Rick who was still in his hospital uniform.

"Hey guys, are you staying for dinner?" Rick asked Blake and Dylan before bending over the countertop to inspect Maureen's pie.

"Yes, Maureen just invited us," Blake said before turning to her brother. "So, did you find your new lead singer yet?"

Ethan put his guitar lovingly against the wall behind the table and sat next to his sister. "Not yet, we're holding the auditions tomorrow. In the garage," he added, looking at Blake apprehensively.

"It's fine; I'll be gone for most of the day. Dylan is taking me to Laurel Falls," Blake replied, taking hold of her boyfriend's hand under the table.

"We'll try to swim a little if it's warm enough. Can't wait!" Dylan said with shining eyes. He loved the responsibilities that came with managing Lewis Constructions, but he remained a free spirit and needed to shed his tie and suit from time to time.

"Bet you won't dare to jump from the big stone on the left bank," Rick said, sitting next to Dylan.

"That pebble? Please, give me a real challenge!" Dylan retorted, and the two of them embarked in an argument about who had done the craziest stunt in their teenage years.

Blake rolled her eyes and nudged Ethan, who seemed lost in his thoughts. "Did you found a new name for the band?"

"Yes, we did. From now on, we'll be known as The Hammers!"

"How did you come up with that?" Blake said, raising an eyebrow.

"We were brainstorming in the garage last night, and there happened to be one hanging on the wall."

"I see. You'd better come up with a better story when the Rolling Stone magazine decides to interview you!"

"You don't like it? The name, I mean."

"I do, actually, I was just teasing. It does have a "rocker" connotation to it."

At that moment, there was a knock at the back door and Ross, Beth, Phillip and Alan-Michael made their way into the kitchen. Everyone greeted each other and as soon as Ed finally came back from the hospital, they all noisily sat down for dinner.

As with all Bauer's meal, the atmosphere was warm and cheerful. People were hailing each other from all sides of the table, asking about their respective day or sharing the latest news about their relatives. Blake took it all in with a smile, reminded of her own noisy family dinners back in San Francisco, when her adoptive parents were still alive. Everybody here seemed to have known the others most or all of their lives. She hoped to become that close with at least a few of them before the year was over.

After happily decimating the lasagna, as Rick put it, they were about to attack the lemon pie when Ross banged his hand on the table, making his neighbours jump. "Where's my head? I completely forgot to tell you, but I have great news! Sam is coming back to Springfield!"

Phillip threw his napkin in the air while Alan-Michael, Rick and Ethan cheered loudly. "Why? When?" Ed finally asked. Dylan, on the other hand, who had been absent-mindedly stroking Blake's thigh, suddenly stood still.

"She just passed the Bar, and so she will be working with me. I really need someone to give me a hand, since I have to take care of WSPR as well. Besides, it will be pleasure for me to mentor her and help start her career."

"Who is she?" Blake asked Dylan, whom she noticed with astonishment had become pale under his tan.

Dylan swallowed before managing a faint smile. "She's Ross's niece, and Phillip's sister. She came to live in Springfield a few years ago while her father was in India."

Blake threw him a puzzled look. "How can she be Phillip's sister if she's Ross's niece?"

Having overheard their conversation, Ethan leaned over the table to answer his sister's question. "Long story, but Phillip is adopted. His father is Justin Marler, who happens to be Ross's brother."

"I see," Blake commented uneasily, still looking at her boyfriend and wondering why he seemed to be so affected by the news. She promised herself to quiz him about that Sam person as soon as they were alone.

* * *

**At the same moment, Montepulciano**

Holly and Roger were lounging on the stone terrace spreading behind their rented villa, enjoying the remnant of an excellent bottle of Chianti and listening idly the songs of the cicadas. Nestled against each other on the same long chair, they could still discern in the distance the tall silhouettes of the cypress trees surrounding the yard, as well as the oleanders and olive trees releasing their sweet fragrances into the balmy evening air. It was a moonless night, but the stars were shining over their heads, numerous and bright.

"Do you think we'll see shooting stars tonight?" Holly asked in a low voice, lazily running her fingers up and down Roger's chest.

"It's not the season yet, but who knows? We might get lucky," he said, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

"What would you wish for?"

Thought she could not see his face, she felt him smile. "That we could stay here forever. Maybe with some bribing, we could convince the kids to move to Italy too."

"It is nice here in the country, I'll admit. I think this my favorite part of our trip so far," Holly concurred.

After leaving Prague, they had spent a few days in Rome, then in Florence, and were now settling down for a few days in the small villa they had rented from an Italian who owned a winery in the area.

Holly stretched and yawned before cuddling more closely against her husband. "I'm just about to fall asleep I think," her voice already sounding sleepy.

Roger looked at his watch and gently nudged her. "Already? It's not even nine yet."

"Can't help it, the pasta, the bread, the cheese, the wine; it all makes me so drowsy."

Roger grinned and gazed down at his wife, whose eyes were slowly closing. "I might know a remedy for that. That is, if you accept treatment, of course."

"Anything, Doctor Thorpe," Holly replied mockingly, her eyes now definitely closed.

Roger shifted his body and bent over her, brushing his lips against her mouth. He felt her smile under his touch and took advantage of it by gently pushing his tongue through her parted lips, seeking and finding hers. They kissed slowly like this for a while, lying still, before Holly finally moved under Roger, gently pressing her hips against him.

"Should we take this inside?" he said, his voice a little ragged.

"I think so. We might scare the owls."

He got up and took her hand to pull her up also, then gave a quick look to the table where the remains of their meal were scattered. "Leave it," Holly whispered before leading him inside, barefoot, across the living room into their dark bedroom.

Standing next to the bed, Holly reached for Roger and pulled his shirt out of his linen pants, then unbuttoned it and tossed it aside. She was about to unzip the back of her yellow cotton dress when he stopped her with a kiss.

"Not yet, I just love you in that dress," he said in a low voice, cradling her face in his hands and kissing her. His fingers then ran down her neck, tracing slow circles on her skin before reaching and taking hold of her breasts. His breath caught in his throat when he realized that the only thing that stood between his hands and her naked skin was a thin layer of golden fabric. His thumbs instinctively ran over her nipples, making them hard.

"No bra, huh?" he said in the nape of her neck.

"Who needs underwear in hot weather like this?" she murmured, running her hands down his back.

It took a few seconds for Roger's fogged brain to register the meaning of Holly's words, but when he finally did, he immediately reached down under her dress and ran a hand up one of her outer thighs. Satisfied that she was, indeed, completely naked under her dress, he took her to the bed; making her lay while he kneeled at the end of it. He tenderly grabbed one of her feet and lifted her slender ankle to his lips. Then he started to slowly kiss his way up her leg, taking the hem of her dress along with him, biting the tender skin behind her knee and brushing his lips on the inside of her thigh.

Lingering over her hips with a last wolfish grin, he finally pushed the folds of fabric around her waist and buried his mouth between her legs, while she arched her back and grabbed his hair. By then, Roger had made love to her enough times to know exactly how to touch her, and it didn't take long before he brought her over the edge. He felt the muscles of her thighs becoming almost impossibly tight against his shoulders before she collapsed back on the bed with a cry.

He joined her on the bed and waited until she had regained her breath before he spoke to her.

"Told you I could keep you awake for a little longer. I bet you're exhausted now," he said.

She smiled and turned on her side so that she could face him. "You would think that." Then she undid his belt and slipped a hand inside his pants, taking hold of him. "There is something that I really feel like doing before going to sleep thought."

"What?" he asked in a choppy voice while she gently stroked him.

"Blow your mind."

* * *

"I am never getting out of bed again, ever," Holly said an hour later, as she and Roger lay naked on top of the covers.

She waited a few seconds for Roger's answer, and then turned to see if he had fallen asleep. She was surprised to find him staring at the ceiling.

"What is it?"

"I was going to tell you earlier, but I didn't want to ruin the mood," Roger said after a while, his tone resolutely serious.

Holly prompted herself on an elbow to get a better look at his face. "It's about Paul, isn't it? You heard something?"

"Yes, but before I tell you, you have to promise that you won't call Catherine and Thierry about this. I don't want them to go and do something foolish."

"Why? What's going on?"

Roger looked at her sternly. "Fine," she sighed. "I promise."

"Paul is alive, although I'm not sure what state he's in. My contacts say that his former employers are keeping him prisoner somewhere in Moscow."

"Why would they do that?"

"Apparently he was hired as an engineer for the construction of a series of luxurious condos in the city. Only his bosses are crooks, and they forced him to build low-quality, downright unsafe buildings that they will then sell for fortunes."

"Won't they get caught? Doesn't the city have regulations about these things, or something?"

"Holly, this is the mafia we're talking about. No one will go against them, not the city, not the police, and certainly not the unsuspecting fools who bought condos from them."

"What about Paul?"

"We can only guess what might have happened at this point, but my theory is that he must have threatened to stop working for them and to go public with their scam."

"So? You just said that they didn't care who spoke against them, because nobody would do anything about it."

"Not in Russia. But let's say the word got out in newspapers in France, then in the rest of Europe, than the Russian government might be forced to interfere, and believe me, these guys don't want that."

"Paul and his big mouth," Holly said, falling back on the bed.

"I know. I always thought that integrity was over-rated. Gets you in trouble every time."

"Do your contacts know where he is?"

"More or less."

"Well, can't they take him out of there and back to France?"

Roger sighed and turned to her. "I'm sorry, Honey, but they can't. This isn't a political matter, and the last thing that the U.S. needs is a diplomatic incident with Russia."

He hugged his wife to soften the blow of his words. "I'm afraid that he's on his own."


	4. Ethan Finds What He is Looking For

**Springfield**

The following afternoon, Ethan and Nate were sitting on the old couch in the garage, discussing the respective merits of the potential lead singers who had just auditioned for them all day. David was facing them, sitting on a wooden chair backwards, and listening to them without commenting.

"I think that the guy before the last one, Jay, could work. He has a good voice," Nate said half-heartedly, grabbing his soda on the rickety coffee table and taking a long swig.

"I don't know. His technique is great, but he doesn't sing with feeling," Ethan retorted with a sigh. They had met with nine singers, and so far he had been impressed with none of them. Hearing them performing his songs, the lyrics of which were so personal, left him with a uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"David, what do you think?" Ethan finally asked, noticing that his bassist had not said a word since the final audition.

David scratched his chin pensively before replying. "I think none of them will work for The Hammers."

"So, that's it, we just waited an entire day!" Nate said, drumming his fingers on the arm of the couch.

They were all about to get up and leave the garage when a soft voice was heard coming from the garage door. "Is this the place for the audition?"

They all turned to face a petite young woman who looked to be about nineteen or twenty years old. Her jet black hair were cut very short, emphasizing her delicate features and making her green eyes appear even wider than they actually were. She was clad in black jeans and a white T-shirt, and there was a definite rock quality about her, even if she managed to remain extremely feminine.

"Yes, this is the place, but the auditions are over," Nate said, peering at her with curiosity.

Disappointment registered on her face before she said, "You found somebody?"

David stopped packing his base and looked at the others before replying. "Actually, it doesn't look like we did, but…" His voice trailed off, afraid of hurting her feelings if he voiced his thought out loud.

The girl took a few steps into the room and looked around her. "But you weren't looking for a female singer, is that what you were going to say?" She asked, looking into David's eyes with a subtle smile.

The three young men shifted and looked down, slightly uncomfortable. She was dead on, of course. Even thought they had not specified that they wanted a male lead singer in their ad, it had never even crossed their minds that a woman would audition.

Ethan finally stepped forward and introduced himself as the lyricist and lead guitar. "Look, we don't mean to be jerks, but we just don't feel that a female voice would fit with our style."

"And he means that with the upmost respect," Nate added while David nodded emphatically next to him.

"Could you at least hear me out? Who knows, you might be surprised. I'm Erika, by the way," the young woman said, taking a few more steps toward the microphone.

Ethan gazed at her, annoyed but intrigued at the same time by her boldness. He suspected that it was uncharacteristic of her, because she was evidently a guarded, if not downright shy person. This meant that she must really want to try out for the auditions. At the same time, her voice sounded so soft that he could not see how it would go well with his more upbeat songs. He wanted power, he wanted loud. As for the ballads, most of which he had written with Jessica in mind, he just couldn't picture a female singing them.

He glanced at his band mates to see what they were thinking. Nate was busy staring at his soda can. David just looked at him and shrugged as if to say, "What do we have to lose?"

Ethan cleared his throat and motioned Erika to stand behind the mike. Then he picked up his guitar and asked her if she had a song in mind or if she wanted to try one of The Hammers.

She turned to them. "I thought I might sing Interstate Love Song, by Stone Temple Pilots. Do you know it?"

David silently whistled while Nate winked at Ethan. The bitter-sweet ballad was playing on every alternative radios. The fact that she had picked a song originally performed by a man was lost on none of them either.

"Risky choice," was all Ethan answered. Not only was this one of his favorite songs, he also especially loved the voice of the lead singer. It would make it that much harder for Erika to impress him.

And yet.

As soon as she opened her mouth to sing the first lyrics, the three young men realized that something special was taking place right there in the old smelly garage. Her voice was clear and yet edgy, powerful and yet full of feelings. The lyrics seemed to take shape before them all and to gain a whole new meaning as she uttered them. Ethan could actually feel shivers running up and down his fingers as he played his part on his guitar.

After they ended the song, they all looked at each other silently. "I don't know what you guys are looking for, but I think it sounded pretty good," Erika finally said tentatively.

"It was…huh…interesting, yes," Nate replied prudently, even though he was just dying to hire her on the spot.

"Yes," Ethan concurred. "How about we discuss it and let you know our decision tomorrow?"

Erika gazed into his eyes, then looked and David and Nate, as if trying to read their minds. "Alright," she sighed after a few seconds. She scribbled her number on a piece of paper which she dug from her bag, and handed it to Ethan. "I'd really like to sing for The Hammers. I've seen you perform twice already, and I think it could be a good fit." Without adding anything else, she walked to the door and headed out.

Nate, David and Ethan all stared at each other after she had left. "Was it me, or is that girl really talented?" David finally asked.

"She blew me away!" Nate said, his smile becoming wider as he spoke.

Ethan put a hand on each of their shoulders and grinned. "So, we agree?"

"We have a new lead singer," David confirmed.

"And she's sure beautiful too," Nate concluded with a funny face. A fact that had escaped none of them.

* * *

**The next day, Montepulciano**

"So, what do you want to be when you grow up?" Holly asked Roger, hanging her arms around his neck while they slowly drifted in the swimming pool behind the villa.

Roger burst into laughter at her choice of words, which made her smile in turn. He ran his hands down her back and pulled her closer to him before making her twirl in the warm water. The sun was out and the day promised to be hot, even thought it was still early.

"You mean when we come back from our honeymoon?" he said after a while, squinting from the rays of lights reflected on the surface of the pool.

"Yeah, you said you'd be thinking about your new business while we would travel."

"I know, but it's rather hard to concentrate when one has such a gorgeous new wife constantly parading in front of one…" he replied, kissing the tip of her nose.

"Luring one in bed…" she added, returning his kiss, this time on the lips.

"…at every hours of the day and night," he concluded before trailing his lips down her neck and gently tugging at the strings of her bikini top.

Before things could get too heated, she suddenly swam away from him to reach the edge of the pool. She grabbed a few figs from a wooden bowl next to the pool stairs and popped them into her mouth.

"I can stop doing that, if you want. I wouldn't want to get in the way of you and the rest of your career," she said, resting her elbows on the smooth tiles surrounding the pool.

Roger looked at her before disappearing into the water. She saw him cross the distance between them in three effortless strokes underneath the water, and then re-emerge, pushing his hair away from his face. "The last thing I want is for you stay away from me. Don't you know that I can't get enough of you?"

Holly chuckled. "You say that now, but wait until we've been married for a couple of years. You're a man of action, Roger; that much I've learned already. I'm afraid you'll get bored if you don't find something to busy yourself with once we're back.

Roger glided nearer, frowning. He could see that underneath her jesting tone, his wife was serious. Her insecurity astonished and yet touched him. "Honey, let me set something straight here. My number one priority is you, not my career. This is the main reason why I sold BlueHorizon, so that I could stay in Springfield with you permanently."

Holly looked down, apparently embarrassed. "I know that. It's just that you've been on the move all of your life. You've been with the CIA, for crying out loud! I'm just afraid that I might not be…enough."

Roger scoffed and closed the few remaining inches between them. He rested his hands against the pool wall on both sides of her and forced her to look him in the eyes.

"Listen to me. Nothing else in my life will have meaning if you're not in it. But you're right, I need a job to fulfill me, and if it can make you feel better, I promise that I will find something to do with my time and my money before we get back home. But not now, not before a few more months."

He took off the soft wide brim hat that she was wearing to shield against the sun, and threw it on the nearby table. "Now, I just want to do this," he added, pressing his lips against hers and pushing the tip of his tongue passed her teeth. She sighed and wrapped her arms around him, responding to his kiss. They tore themselves away from each other after a few minutes, both out of breath.

"You're not just saying all this because you want to get rid of me, do you?" Roger said, suddenly struck by a new thought.

"Rid of you?" Holly said, raising an eyebrow.

"Am I suffocating you? Is that why you want me to spend time thinking about my new business instead of spending time with you?"

"Oh, honey!" Holly said, instinctively lifting a hand to his face. It was her turn to be completely taken aback by his self-doubt. "I just want you to be happy, whatever you do."

"And I want the same for you."

They embraced each other and stood still for a while.

"They say that marriage is a process." Holly finally said, her chin resting on Roger's shoulder. "There is so much to discover about the other person that the journey is never over. I certainly still have a lot to discover about you."

"That's the beauty of it," Roger replied, running his fingers through her wet hair.

"Let's just hope that we get it right this time around," Holly said, obviously referring to both their previous marriages.

Roger shook his head with a smile and pulled away from her embrace so that he could see her face. "Those were just rehearsals, baby. This time it's for keeps."

He bent to kiss her neck, and then slowly made his way down to her cleavage. Her skin was warm under his lips, and, looking down, he could see that the top of her breasts was becoming rosy.

"You're about to get sunburnt," he commented, running the tip of his fingers delicately along the edge of her bathing suit.

"Is that so?" Holly's face remained ostensibly indifferent, but she teasingly pressed her body against his. "Then I guess I should put on some sunscreen."

"Do you want me to help you with that?" Roger replied, his pulse picking up ever so slightly.

"I'd like that. I think I left it in the bedroom," she said, running her hands down his chest.

"Why don't we go put it on inside, then? We'll be more comfortable," he said as he took her hand and led her outside of the pool.

"Good idea, and then we'll stay in until the sunscreen really penetrates the skin. We can never be too cautious with the sun nowadays," Holly said, walking behind him and taking in the sight of his toned shoulders and back with a rising feeling of anticipation.

"Especially with your complexion," Roger answered, barely aware of what he was saying at that point.

They never made it past the living room couch.


	5. Jack is A Jackass

**A week later, Montepulciano**

Roger hung up the phone with such force that Holly could actually hear it from the bedroom. She walked to the threshold, holding a half-folded shirt, and looked at her husband inquisitively.

"Is everything alright?"

"That stupid, selfish, son of a..." Instead of finishing his sentence, Roger banged his fist against the nearest wall in frustration. He then crossed the living room and walked past her, stone faced, saying that they had better finish packing because they had an early start the next day.

"Whoa, time-out! What is going on?" Holly said, putting the shirt down on the couch and grabbing his hand in order to stop him. She put a hand on his shoulder and forced him to face her. Roger took a few deep breaths, somewhat appeased by her touch.

"That was Jack on the phone. Jack Kingsley," he finally said, shaking his head and taking a few steps away from her.

"Your friend from the wedding," Holly replied, as if to confirm that she had the right person in mind.

Roger nodded and rubbed his face with both hands, looking overwhelmed.

"Well, did you two have a fight?" Holly added, seeing that Roger wasn't eager to discuss the matter.

Roger seemed to ponder for a few seconds on whether or not he should tell her what had happened. He finally motioned her to sit on the couch with him.

"After you told me about Paul being held in Russia, I called a few agents that I still knew were working in the area, remember?"

Holly nodded. Although they had not discussed her ex-fiancé's situation for more than a week, Paul had crossed her mind almost every day since then.

"They told you that they wouldn't interfere because it could cause political tensions between the two countries."

"Exactly. I also happened to mention the whole thing to Jack when he called me last week."

Surprise registered in Holly's eyes. She knew that Roger and Jack were close, but she didn't know that they spoke that regularly. After all, she hadn't called any of her friends from Springfield since she had left for her honeymoon.

Roger caught the glimpse in her eyes and smiled. "Jack and I talk every week, and have been since we left the agency. He's like a brother to me. Someday I'll tell you all about him," he stated simply.

Holly frowned but refrained from asking any more questions. She knew that her husband would confide in her in due time. That was what their whole year alone together was all about.

"Anyway, Jack just called me back to tell me that he was thinking about going to Russia himself to investigate the matter, since nobody else would do it," Roger added, the smile melting from his face.

"What?" Holly said, shocked, but also relieved that someone would try and help her old friend. She took care to hide her excitement, however, as it was clear that Roger did not share her feelings.

"I tried to talk him out of it, but that pig-headed bastard wouldn't listen to reason!" Roger exclaimed, his jaw tightening in anger.

Brother, bastard, pig-headed. The two of them definitely had a complex relationship, Holly remarked inwardly.

"Doesn't he know how dangerous it could be?" she finally asked her husband.

"Of course he knows! Why do you think he wants to go?! This man strives on danger; that's what he lives for," Roger explained.

"And I bet he doesn't get a lot of that in peaceful Montana," Holly surmised.

"You got that right. He's owned a ranch for five years, and now he's bored stiff with it. Besides, he has no wife, no children, no one to tie him down and hold him back, as he always says."

"Seems to me like he's afraid to let people too close to his heart," Holly replied, caressing Roger's forearms pensively.

Roger looked at his wife and put an arm around her waist, hugging her. "I used to be like that, you know, before you came back into my life."

They both stayed silent for a few minutes, and Holly could feel the tension in Roger's body. To say that he was affected by the news was an understatement, and she racked her brains for ways to make him feel better.

"You really care about him, don't you?" she finally asked, for lack of wiser words.

He gazed back at her and smiled. "I do. He's one of the very few people I actually give a damn about," he said, referring to the argument they had in Prague.

"Then I'm sorry that I brought the whole thing up, about Paul, I mean. I don't want to cause any troubles between you and your best friend."

Roger kissed the top of her head and rested his chin against it. "This is not your fault. You were trying to help your own friend. I'm the one who should have kept my mouth shut. I'm afraid that there is no stopping him now if he wants to go. Besides, we have a plane to catch for Casablanca tomorrow morning, so we had better finish packing our things tonight and just forget about the whole thing."

He looked away from her and started to get back to their bedroom, but not before Holly could catch an enigmatic glimpse in his eyes. She could read anger in them, but also a flash of something else. Something that very mush resembled resentment, she realized with some incredulity. She grabbed his shirt and forced him to stay still.

"Wait a minute! You're not jealous of him, are you?" she asked with a frown.

Roger shook his head a little too vehemently. "Don't be absurd," he cried.

"Are you sure? Seems to me like you wouldn't mind getting a piece of the action, now that your best friend has decided to get in the thick of things."

"In the middle of our honeymoon? Come on, Holly, get serious!" Roger replied in the same definite tone.

Holly stared at him for a few moments before shrugging. "If you say so. As long as you don't feel that I'm, huh, what's the phrase again? Tying you down and holding you back," she said dryly before going back to their room.

* * *

**Same Day, French Riviera**

Standing in the middle of her hotel room, with the curtains drawn, Jessica silently put her sundress over her red bikini so as not to wake her friend Sonia, who was still soundly asleep. Their train had pulled into the station at Nice late into the previous night, and Jessica had just woken up, even though the sun was already well up in the sky.

She packed a plastic flask full of water, sunscreen, a towel, an apple and her favorite F. Scott Fitzgerald novel into a beach bag, and then carefully closed the door behind her. She walked past the room where her two other girlfriends, Caroline and Ivy, were probably still asleep and went down the stairs.

Leaving her hotel, Jessica hastily shielded her eyes from the blinding sun with one hand before she reached for her sunglasses resting on the top of her head. Everywhere she looked, azure blue competed with sparkling white. She crossed the stone paved square, lined up with boutiques and coffee shops then went down a narrow street which led directly to the seaside.

She kicked off her sandals as soon as she reached the beach and buried her feet in the sand with a sigh of contentment. As it was still early in the summer, the town had not yet been invaded by the usual throngs of tourists, and so she had no trouble making her way across the scattered groups of bathers drying in the sun.

She finally picked a more remote spot and spread out her towel. She sprawled on top of it, stretching with delight, and closed her eyes, taking in the sound of the waves crashing on the shore and the cries of the seagulls over her head. She had made it! She was out of Paris at last. She couldn't help but feel tremendous waves of relief as she recalled the final week of her semester. She had taken great pains to avoid Professor Valois and had only met him one last time, during her final exam. Their eyes had briefly met as she handed him her copy, but his stare had been inscrutable, leaving her with a mix of relief and regret.

Still, all in all, she thought as she bit into her apple, she felt that her heart had made a narrow escape, and she looked forward to her two last weeks in Europe to forget whatever feelings she ever had for the Frenchman. Ethan was waiting for her, and she had to be ready to pick up their relationship where they had left it in January.

She dug her novel from her bag and rested on her elbows, preparing to dive into the twisted yet romantic world of her favorite author.

"I loved that novel, I've read it twice already," a voice then said over her head, startling her. Jessica felt goose bumps ride all over her skin, and she did not have to look up to see that the voice belonged to her professor, Christian Valois. She mentally cursed all the gods in heaven before sitting up, plastering a smile on her lips.

He took off his shirt before sitting at a respectful distance from her and started a friendly chat, seemingly unaware of her distress. To be sitting next to him like this, alone and miles from class was almost too much to bear. She finally regained enough presence of mind to follow his lead and to answer his questions. Yes, she was there for two weeks with friends, and she was staying just around the corner, at the Hôtel du Cap.

"I'm very surprised to see you. I think it's the first time that I ever ran into students here, even though I here come every summer," Christian said with a slight accent, picking a handful of sand and looking at the glimmering ocean spreading in front of them.

Jessica's mind raced, trying to decide if there was any chance that he might have followed her, and then scolded herself for her foolishness. There was no way he could have known of her plans, and besides, he had just said that he came to the Riviera every year.

"Is your hotel also in the neighborhood?" she finally asked in what she hoped was a casual voice.

"I own a villa, actually. It's not much to look at, but it is right by the sea. The view is incredible, and I get to spend as much time alone as I need."

Jessica averted her eyes. She already knew from his bare left hand that he was not married, but she had wondered if there was someone in his life. Apparently not.

"What are you planning on doing while you're on vacation?" Christian asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Rest, mostly. Read, swim, and visit, of course. The girls and I are planning on driving to Cannes and Monaco, for sure. What about you?"

"I'm working on a few medical articles that I would like to publish this summer, but besides that, my schedule is pretty much open," he said, fully looking at her for the first time since he had arrived.

Jessica's heart seemed to kick into fifth gear as she allowed herself to look back into his blue eyes. She had avoided his sight for so long that it felt like staring into the sun. He smiled sunnily at her, and she realized that he was waiting for some kind of answer from her part.

"Maybe..." she said before stopping abruptly.

"Yes?"

"Never mind," she replied, colors rushing to her cheeks.

A flash of disappointment crossed his eyes. He smiled again, this time a little sadly, then picked up his shirt and got up. "Well, I guess I should leave you to your book. As for me, I'm longing for a swim. Have a nice time here, and a safe trip back to the States, Jessica."

She forced herself not to call back after him as he walked away. After a few steps, however, he turned back and addressed her again, speaking quickly. "If you want, I could show you around some day. You and your friends, I mean. I was born in the area, and the back country is really worth the detour if you know where to go."

To her utter amazement, she heard herself reply, "That would be nice."

Christian grinned. "I'll contact you this week, then. Goodbye."

"Goodbye," Jessica mumbled, mortified. She tried to cheer up by deciding that she could always refuse his invitation later on, and trying to clear her mind, picked up her book again. For the first time, however, reading "Tender is the Night" did nothing to comfort her. The dramatic tale of this older man falling for a young woman, in the South of France, of all places, only added to her confusion now.

She picked the book down and buried her face in her hands. Was meeting Christian again fate, or just a stupid and cruel coincidence? What about Ethan? She was prevented of dwelling on the subject much longer by the arrival of her three friends, to which she decided to hide their professor's presence until she decided if she would see him again.

* * *

She came back late that night, having dined in Monaco. A note was waiting for at the reception, and she tore it open with trembling hands. As she expected, it was from Christian, who invited Caroline, Ivy, Sonia and herself on a tour in the country the next day, followed by dinner at his place.

She went up to her room, reading the note again and again, glad that the girls had decided to stay behind at the hotel bar for a nightcap. As soon as she sat on the bed, she picked up the phone and dialed a number to the States. She held her breath until someone finally answered.

"Bauer's residence," Ethan said in his usual cheerful tone.

"Baby, it's me!" she said softly.

"Hey, Jessica! We weren't supposed to talk until tomorrow; are you alright?" he asked, sounding worried.

"I'm great" she lied. "Listen, I just had this crazy idea that you might come and spend the two last weeks of my vacation here. What do you say?"

There was a short silence at the other end of the line before Ethan replied. "I'd love it, you know that, but I can't."

"Why not?" Jessica said, hating to put pressure on him but feeling desperate.

"Because I'm completely broke, for one thing. I don't have money for this trip if we are to visit Roger and Mom later this summer, wherever they may be at that point. Also, I have a show coming up in a couple of weeks. The guys would kill me if I let them down," Ethan added apologetically.

Jessica sighed. "It's okay, honey. Forget I asked."

"Are you sure? Because if you really, really want me to go - "

"It's fine, I swear. It was just a spur of the moment idea. I'll see you in two weeks, in time for your show!"

She hung up pensively, feeling her last shreds of resolve abandoning her. She would not be able to resist seeing Christian the next day; she was sure of it now, and to hell with the consequences.

* * *

**Same day, Springfield**

"Dylan!" Blake yelled as she knocked on the bathroom door for the second time.

She heard the water being turned off and after a few seconds, the door opened on her very wet and dripping boyfriend. He gave her a nasty look as he grabbed a towel and started drying his hair.

"Why is it that you always have to do that while I'm in the shower? I'm going to start sleeping back at my place during the week if you won't let me wash in peace!"

"I need to talk to you before I leave for work," she replied, following him to her bedroom.

"Couldn't it have waited? Good thing I wasn't waiting for my conditioner to work its magic," Dylan replied sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, okay? But no, it couldn't wait. I'm going to see Ross Marler today about a piece WSPR wants to do on the Spaulding Foundation."

"So?" Dylan replied, putting his jeans on.

"I'm going to see him at his office, not WSPR."

Dylan only paused for a split second while putting the rest of his clothes on, but Blake could see from the look on his face that he had finally caught her drift.

"I've been very patient with you this week, Dylan, and I've given you all the space and time that you needed to explain the Sam phenomena to me. And yet, you didn't even mention her name!"

"There's not that much to tell," Dylan replied, sitting on the bed and looking at his hands.

"Well, I'm sorry, but it's just not going to cut it. Chances are I'm going to run into her today, and there is no way that I will stand there, looking like a fool because you didn't tell me what everyone else in town seems to be privy to," Blake said, suddenly on the verge of tears and hating herself for it.

Dylan gave her a long look before taking her hand and making her sit next to him. "She was my girlfriend," he finally said, glancing at her sideways.

"That much I gathered."

"And at some point we were engaged to be married," he added.

Blake's heart sank. So it had been that serious between them.

"Are you the one who left her?" she asked in a small voice.

"No, she did. She just fell out of love with me."

Blake sighed. Every new piece of information was worse than the last. "Well, she must have loved you at some point, because everyone that mentioned her in front of me this week gave me that same "I'm so sorry" look, as if I was doomed for being your current girlfriend."

There was a definite look of annoyance in Dylan's face before he pulled her to him. "People can be so insensitive! I'm sorry that they did that, I really am. You should have come to me sooner about this!"

Blake shook her head. "No, YOU should have come to me sooner. Why didn't you?"

"I was afraid that my relationship with Sam would scare you if I told you about it. Besides, it's been over for a long time."

"We all have a past, Dylan. Lord knows I have had my share of boyfriends before you came along. People seem to think that you and Sam were the new Romeo and Juliet, however, and that's what bothers me. Why would they say that?"

"Because it wasn't easy for Sam and I when I first came to town. You have to understand that I was no more than a bum, freshly out of jail. I didn't even know who my parents were." He paused to give her hand a squeeze. Although their childhoods had been vastly different, the fact they had found their biological parents later in life was something that they had instantly bonded over.

"Sam was younger; she was from a good family. All she would do all day before we met was to read Jane Austen and to study. We couldn't have been more different, and yet we fell in love. I guess we saw something in the other that we desperately wanted or needed in our life. Her uncle Ross and her father Justin wouldn't hear of us dating for the longest time, as you can imagine, so we had to fight very hard just to be together."

"So, why did you guys break up?"

Dylan shook her head, visibly still bitter about the subject. "Life has this way of pulling the rug from under your feet when you think that you have it all figured out. Sam got into a huge car accident with my mom a few summers ago; she was left paralyzed and Reva almost died. They thought that Sam would never walk again, but I stayed by her side, of course, and that's what it took to make her father realize how much I loved her. Then this neurosurgeon came along, Daniel St. John. He was her father's protégé. He performed this dangerous operation on her and it made her able to walk again."

He paused for a few seconds, but Blake did not dare ask any more questions, sensing that he was not done.

"We could have been happy then; it was our time. But instead of walking off into the sunset with me, she just took off with the doctor. I never knew what hit me."

"Wow. I'm so sorry, Dylan," Blake said, sincerely grieving for him. "Where is he now, the doctor, I mean?"

Dylan shrugged. "Who knows? Not here, apparently. Besides, who cares? As I said, it was all a long time ago."

Blake ran a hand on his back then smiled bravely. "Well, if you say so. I'll try not to worry about it then."

As she walked away from her apartment, however, she could not shake the feeling that she had not heard the last of Sam Marler.


	6. Questions and Answers, or Tea For Two

**The next day, Marrakesh, Morocco**

"Tell me something I don't know about you. Anything!" Roger said as he and Holly strolled down the intertwined alleys forming Marrakesh's main souk. Their plane having landed only a few hours ago in the city they called the "Pearl of the South", they only had taken time to check into their hotel before taking the city by storm. They were now wandering between endless rows of stands, stalls and small shops that sold anything from fragrant spices and fruits to jewels, rose water, rugs and goats.

Holly cocked her head on one side, trying to think of something in answer to Roger's question. "Okay. My favorite ice cream flavour is Butter Pecan."

Roger raised an eyebrow. "Shocking! I truly would have pictured you for the dark chocolate type. Mine is plain old vanilla. Does that make me boring?"

"Since you've lead the life of James Bond for almost a decade, I'm going to say no, but I'm not going to lie to you, Rog, it was a close call."

Roger laughed and stopped short in the middle of the street to give her as passionate a kiss as he dared in public. "Your turn now. What do you want to ask me?" he whispered in her ear before they resumed their promenade.

"What did you want to be when you were growing up? Besides a master spy, of course!"

"A very good question! There were two things that I really wanted to do. I was either going to be a jazz pianist or, get this, a veterinary."

Holly almost doubled up with laughter. "You, a pet doctor?"

Roger looked offended. "What? I love animals!"

"You're dead scared of half of them."

"I am not!"

"What about skunks?"

Roger shrugged with as much dignity as he could muster. "That's different. Skunks aren't animals; they are evil creatures put on Earth to annoy the hell out of me."

"Whatever you say," Holly said, her sarcastically tone letting him know that she was not buying it. "As for me, I wanted to be a writer and to become a citizen of the world."

"It's never too late for that. Maybe this world tour will give you the perfect idea for a novel."

"There's certainly plenty of material for a love story," she said, her expression suddenly softening. They gazed at each other for a few seconds, silently acknowledging how thankful they were just to be standing there together.

Roger then looked around and pointed at a few tables scattered on the street a few feet ahead of them. "Would you like to stop for some mint tea? It looks like there is some kind of tearoom over there." They reached the tables to discover a quaint little shop, the walls of which were hung with bright purple and yellow silk. The inside was filled with people smoking the sheesha and enjoying the traditional Moroccan tea. They sat at a table near the entrance, where they were soon greeted by the jovial owner. With much gesticulation, he explained in great details the making and serving of this mix of gunpowder green tea, fresh mint leaves and sugar.

"Sounds delicious," Holly said, steeling a glance at Roger to see if he was as amused as she was by the boisterous man.

"You have never have tasted something so sweet in your life," the man confirmed before walking away jauntily to take care of their order.

"He certainly knows how to make a sale in any case," Roger remarked as soon as he was out of earshot. "There is one thing that he did not mention that I also find interesting, however. Did you know that this tea is always served three times?"

"How do you mean?"

"You have to drink three glasses of it each time. Because the tea and the mint leaves continue to brew in the teapot while you drink, the first glass tastes very different than the third. There even is an old poem about this. It goes like this:

_The first glass is as bitter as life,  
The second glass is as strong as love,  
The third glass is as gentle as death."_

"How come you know all of this stuff?" Holly asked, amazed by her husband's seemingly endless knowledge of the world. "Wait, don't tell me; you have worked in Morocco as an agent."

"Guilty as charged!" Roger replied with a grin.

"No wonder you insisted on including it in our itinerary. You felt like going down Memory Lane!"

"Our itinerary? I didn't know we had one of those," Roger retorted in the same tone. The list of countries that they should visit had led to many arguments between them, so much so that they had finally decided to pick and choose their next destination as they went.

They were interrupted at that moment by the owner who carried a silver tray on which sat a fat tea pot as well as two tall ornate glasses. He put them down on the table and lifted the teapot high above them before filling them almost to the brim.

"It is very hot, enjoy!" he said gleefully before rushing away to greet new customers.

They both waited a few minutes for the tea to cool off before Holly decided to give it a try.

"How is it?" Roger asked as she took her first sip.

"Bitter as life, but really good all the same. The man was right!" she said, putting her glass back on the table and blowing cool air on her fingers.

They both drank for a while in silence before Holly thought of another question. "I have a good one. Who is your celebrity crush?"

"You mean the star I could sleep with even if I'm with you?" Roger joked before ducking under the table in case she was about to hurl something at him.

"Exactly. You can come out of there; I would have the same privilege in case you forgot," Holly deadpanned.

"Seems fair. In that case, I would say Diane Keaton. I'm not saying this to be cute, but she reminds me of you in a way."

"I'm flattered."

"What about you? Who would be the lucky one?"

"Believe it or not, I would say Jack Nicholson. I have a thing for the bad guys, I can't help it!"

"So if you had the chance, you really would sleep with him?"

Holly grew serious. "In my fantasies I might. In real life, if it ever came to it, which it won't, I would turn him down."

"Now, I'm the one who is flattered."

"What's the point of being married to one person if you sleep with someone else?"

"Have you ever cheated on someone?" Roger asked, suddenly struck by the idea. It was the first time in the whole year that they had been back together that the subject came up.

Holly shifted on her chair, uncomfortable. "I thought we were playing a game here! Are you sure that you want to start asking these kinds of questions? It seems like dangerous territory to me," she said a little too vehemently.

Roger stared at her, taken aback by her strong reaction. "Well, well. I will take that as a yes. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, unless the man you cheated on was me, in which case I really much want to discuss it immediately!"

"Oh come on, you know that I never cheated on you." She paused to take a deep breath before resuming. "It happened only once, right before Dietrich and I decided to call it quits. He was out of town on business and I was all alone in Geneva. We both already knew that our marriage was over. I guess I just needed someone to get me through that particular night."

"What happened to your lover?"

Holly averted her eyes, visibly troubled by the subject. "I never saw him again." Seeing that she would not say another word about it, Roger dropped it and steered the conversation back to his own past.

"I guess it might not come as a surprise to you that I was unfaithful one or twice when married to Peggy. I'm not proud of it, and of many other stupid things that I did while married to her. I got better after that. I never cheated on Susan except for that one kiss on your living room last summer. Lords know I wanted to tear your clothes off and make love to you that night."

"But you didn't," Holly said simply.

"I wanted to do right by her, but mostly by you."

"I know." She took the teapot by its handle and poured them a second glass. "So this is the one who is as strong as love, isn't it?"

They raised their glasses before savoring the first mouthful, which was definitely sweeter and stronger than the previous glass.

"If our marriage can continue to be this sweet for the years to come, than I will die a happy man indeed," Roger said, putting his glass down. He leaned back in his chair and looked at her. "Do you have a next question for me? I'm ready!"

Holly made small circle on the table with her index, trying to come up with a good one. "What is your favorite part of my body," she finally said with a smile at the corners of her lips.

"Your hair. Drives me crazy. You?"

"Your hands, because they strong, and because you know what to do with them."

"That's nice to know. Okay, what is your least favorite trait about me?"

Holly made a face. "Your restlessness."

Roger laughed and took her hand. "Ouch! You were supposed to say that you liked everything about me!"

Holly laughed in return. "I'm not a liar! Besides, I know that there are some things about me that bother you. There has to be."

"Well, I do find that you have a tendency to overthink things at times. No matter what people say, sometimes I think that it's best to act first and then think later. That's how I accomplished some of the greatest things in my life; joining the CIA, taking my business off the ground."

Holly gazed at him pensively. "I guess you're right, but sometimes I find it hard to make that leap of faith. To just go with the flow and assume that everything will turn out for the best."

"The good thing is that we can leap together now; it makes it that much easier."

Holly drained the rest of her glass, nodding. Having been divorced for so long, she still had to get re-used to having someone by her side. To say that Roger was different from her first two husbands was an understatement. Ed had been steady and dependable, even predictable, but only as long as he could keep control on his own demons. As for Dietrich, he had been good to her, but had always kept her at arm's length. Now, being with Roger, she felt like she was seeing the world in colors for the first time. He put everything on the table for her to see, the good as well as the bad, and expected the same from her. He either loved things or hated them with a passion, and it seemed like he had no capacity for indifference. To Holly, who had mastered the art of pretending not to care, this was the thing that she loved most yet apprehended the most about him.

"Are you ready for a taste of death?" Roger asked, bringing her back in the moment. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, holding the teapot in midair.

"Hit me," she said, pushing her glass toward him on the table.

"You know," Roger said after having filled their glasses, "I came very close to death once. Not my best experience, but something wonderful came out of it."

Holly waited for him to continue, intrigued.

"It happened not too far from here, actually, in the Sahara desert. I was on a mission with a new partner, and we had to trail two Tunisians that were involved in major weapon traffic. These guys really knew their way around the desert, and I'm afraid to say that they lost us pretty quickly. Then, believe it or not, the gas tank of our jeep started leaking as soon as we were on our way back."

"Do you think that someone had tampered with it?" Holly inquired, feeling as if she was reading an adventure novel.

Roger shrugged. "I don't see how, but who knows? Personally, I think that it was fate, but you can decide later."

"There was nothing to do but to pack as much food and water as we could into our bags and to leave the jeep there," he continued. "We had a rough idea of where we were supposed to go, but the truth is that without a jeep or a camel, or a horse, we had no chance of making it home, and we knew that. We kept going anyway, what else could we do?"

He paused to take a long sip of tea, while Holly was suspended to his every word. "We walked for two days, and when we ran out of water, I was the first one to feel the heat, and I mean literally. My partner was younger and had more stamina, but at some point, I just hit the ground and wouldn't stand back up. I was so exhausted that I begged my partner to just leave me, because the thought of taking another step just felt impossibly painful to me."

"But he stayed?" Holly asked, starting to have her doubts as to the identity of the mysterious partner.

"Yeah, he stayed. First he yelled at me to get up, and then called me a loser and a wimp. When he saw that I still wouldn't budge, he took my arms and dragged me on the sand. I told him to quit being an idiot and to save himself, but he just kept on dragging me. After a while, I became delirious and I lost consciousness; at least that is what he told me. I have no recollection of it whatsoever."

"What happened?"

"The next thing I knew, I was lying on some sort of cot, in a tent, and this old Tuareg was tending to me. He and another man had found us a mile from their camp and had brought us back with them. By then, my partner was as in a bad shape as I was, but these men had seen worse, I'm sure of it. They brought us back to health in a few of days and even lead us to the closest city. And since then, my partner and I have been as close as two friends can be."

Holly smiled. "I thought you might be talking about Jack."

"There are not a lot of men like him, you know. I could see from the way the Tuaregs showed him respect that he really had put his life on the line for me. I feel really lucky to have him into my life."

"And I too, or else you would not be sitting here with me," Holly replied, running her hand up his arm.

"I'm not saying that he's a saint, far from it, but he as guts and he's as loyal as a friend can be."

"That's why you got so mad yesterday, when he called to say that he was going to Russia. Will he call you once he gets there?"

"He said he didn't want to bother me on my honeymoon, but I told him not to be stupid. Hopefully we'll hear from him in a few days," Roger concluded, emptying his drink. He put money on the table and held his hand to her to pull her up.

"I'm starving. Let's go eat a lamb _tajine_ somewhere."

"No idea what you're talking about, but let's try it anyway!" Holly said, following him outside the teashop. Roger put an arm around her waist and led her down the street. "You see, it's not that hard to make that leap of faith when you have someone by your side."


	7. Confusion

**Same day, French Riviera**

As promised, Christian picked the girls up at their hotel early in the morning and they all crammed themselves in his tiny Peugeot. They left the beach behind with a sigh and headed straight to the back country.

"I think you girls are going to like our destination," Christian said cryptically as they entered the highway. After half an hour, they reached the entrance of a medieval-looking city by the name of Grasse. Christian parked right next to the city walls and invited them to continue on foot.

"Doesn't "Grasse" mean "fat" in French?" Ivy inquired, as they made their way up the narrow streets, the city's cathedral towering over them.

Christian grinned and nodded. "It does, but it's a coincidence. It was never proven, but the name apparently comes from Latin, and it refers to the hill that this city is built on."

"Were the Romans here at some point?" Jessica, asked, her eyes suddenly shining. Apart from biology and literature, history had always been one of her favorite subject.

"Again, no one can say for sure, but the city did exist in the early Middle Ages, that much I know." They spent the next hour exploring the city and the roman architecture of the cathedral, stopping for ice cream on their way.

"And what is there to do here besides visiting old churches," Sonia asked as they walked back to Christian's car. Clearly, she did not share Jessica's passion for old things.

Christian smiled again. "You'll see."

He led them a little way out of the city, to what looked like a white and splendid mansion, surrounded by palm trees and flowery bushes. "Did I mention that Grasse is the world capital of perfume?" he ask offhandedly when they reached the front door. "This is the Parfumerie Molinard, one of the oldest and most famous in the country. You can even design your own perfume; I thought you might like to see it."

"Might like it? What are we waiting for?!" Caroline cried, looking ready to kick the door down.

* * *

"Have you decided on the composition of your perfume?" Christian said, coming to stand beside Jessica in front of a wide counter.

The young woman shook her head. "There are so many choices; I can't make up my mind."

"Do you prefer something woody, oriental, fresh or floral?"

Jessica bit her bottom lip, looking at the endless lines of glass bottles on the counter. "I'm not sure."

Christian bent down to take a closer look at the labels on the bottles, and then picked one up. "If I may, I think that floral would suit you best." He took the cork out and the fragrance escaped the bottle and reached Jessica's nostrils, immediately summoning a bunch of roses in her mind's eyes.

"I like that," she says, forgetting her shyness and bending over Christian hand to smell the flask more closely. She raised her head and their eyes met; around them, the voices of the girls suddenly faded in the background.

"The rose is a delicate flower, romantic yet mysterious. Its beauty is timeless. It would fit you like a glove, really," Christian said softly, never taking his eyes off her. He tipped the bottle over his index, which he then lightly glided along the base of her neck. Jessica took a step back, turning crimson. She was saved from answering by the salesman who joined them at that very moment, spotting the bottle in the professor's hands.

"Ah, the rose; an excellent choice. Will that be the base of your perfume, miss?"

Jessica glanced at Christian before replying to the _parfumeur_. "I believe so."

* * *

Darkness had just fallen when the car pulled in front of Christian's driveway. The villa stood in front of them, small and white, barely visible in the dusk. The inside was cosy and full of warm colors, but also singularly well-kept, as befitted a surgeon.

The four girls all sat around the huge wooden table in the old kitchen while Christian took several bowls and plates out of the refrigerator. "I hope that you like duck, because it's about the only decent meal that I can cook!"

Ivy glanced at her watch. "We'd better help you, or else we won't eat before midnight."

Christian tipped a wide silvery platter so that they could see the bird sitting on top of it. He put it in the oven. "It's already done; I only have to re-heat everything and then we're all set. Stay put and relax; I'll go change out of these clothes first and then we can eat," he said before disappearing upstairs.

"Is there nothing that this man can't do?" Caroline wondered aloud dreamily as soon as he was out of sight.

Sonia smiled mischievously, shaking her dark locks. "He is kind of a prince charming, isn't he? Handsome, smart, funny, AND he owns a villa in the South of France!"

"It's been in his family for years," Jessica said, trying to appear nonchalant about the whole subject.

"Oh, don't pretend like you don't find him as attractive as we do, sister," Ivy said, nudging her in the ribs.

"Yes, we are on to you! We saw you two at the perfume store, you couldn't take your eyes off each other!" Sonia added. She would have envied her blonde friend if she hadn't grown so fond of her. She was used to Jessica gathering all the male attention by then in any case and had made her peace with it.

Jessica felt blood rushing to her cheeks, ashamed that her feelings were so obvious. "I have a boyfriend," she finally said, trying to regain her composure.

"Exactly, so you had better make up your mind about what you want and do it fast, because these vacations are going to be over in a flash," Caroline concluded hurriedly when she heard Christian's footsteps on the stairs.

He went right past them to the cellar and remerged with a bottle of red wine. Jessica's heart tightened in her chest as he stood before her, with his blue jeans and a faded black T-Shirt.

"I know that you're not allowed to drink back home, but since it's perfectly legal here, I thought there would be no harm in indulging in this little treat. It's from a winery not even a mile from here, and I guarantee that the duck wouldn't taste the same without it," he said, uncorking the bottle and splitting the content evenly between them five. He then busied himself with the salad and dressing the table, refusing that they would even lift a finger to help him.

While the girls chatted next to her, Jessica slowly started to relax. It was a beautiful and clear night, she was in France and she could hear the sea crashing on the shore a few feet away from the house. She was surrounded by friends and was enjoying a very fine wine. She should seize happiness while it was within her grasp, she thought. Her eyes met Christian's across the kitchen and he smiled back at her. Nothing could ruin this evening for her, she decided, forcing a young blue-eyed man in Springfield out of her mind.

"Oh, shoot!" Sonia exclaimed, staring at the stain growing on the front of her summer dress. She had just spilled her wine on herself as she was recounting, with wide gestures, the time that she had first learned to ice-skate. After the meal, they had all moved out to the patio to enjoy the view.

"You had better put some salt on it right now," Ivy ordered, lifting her friend from her chair and pushing her inside the house. Caroline cleared her throat and soon mumbled something about helping them finding the salt, and quickly disappeared as well.

Jessica and Christian glanced at each other and smiled. "My friends are not too big on subtlety, I'm afraid," Jessica finally pointed out as she went to stand next to the steps leading to the beach.

Christian followed and stopped just a few inches away from her. She could literally feel the heat radiating from his lean body. "So this exit was all orchestrated? I wasn't sure," he said, smiling at her.

"Not on my part!" Jessica exclaimed. She then put a hand over her mouth, afraid she had been too vehement.

"I know that. I can tell that there isn't a scheming bone in your body. I'm glad to have a few minutes alone with you all the same, Jessica. I've wanted that all day."

"Really?" Jessica replied, her heart starting to hammer in her chest.

He took a step toward her. "Couldn't you tell?"

She dropped her eyes to the ground. "I don't know. Maybe." For the corner of her eye, she saw him lift his glass to his lips. She could hear faint music coming from a nearby beach house, and the girls giggling inside, probably speculating on what was going on the patio.

She quivered as he lifted her chin gently. "In fact, I've been thinking about this moment from the first time I saw you in my classroom, looking all serious. I just never thought that it would actually come true. I'm a great believer in work ethics, and students have always been off limits as far as I'm concerned, no matter how charming they proved to be. I don't usually wine and dine my students, and I certainly don't bring them into my home, I want you to know that."

Jessica only nodded, her thoughts racing. She had not been imagining it after all.

"And now our paths have crossed again, and you are no longer my student," he continued, picking the glass from her hands and putting it on the patio table. "And I can no longer deny that I'm desperately attracted to you, my beautiful Jessica."

He glided a hand around her waist and pulled her to him, meeting her lips with his. Jessica grabbed on to his shoulders for balance and pressed herself against him, letting all of her defenses down. Then, without warning, Ethan's face imposed itself in her mind, forcing her to push Christian away.

"I can't do this," she stammered. "I have a boyfriend,"

Christian took a few steps back, incomprehension, and then hurt registering on his face. "A serious boyfriend, I imagine?"

Jessica nodded. "I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to lead you on. I'm so confused," she said, tears gliding down her cheeks. Christian's expression softened and he led her to a couple of chairs by the table.

"I AM attracted to you, you know," she said, wiping her tears. "But I love him too. I think I should try and make up my mind before I do something I would regret."

"You mean like making love with me?" Christian said, putting a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Orlike leaving him. Maybe it's over between Ethan and me, and maybe it's just a bump in the road; I have to see him to be able to know that."

Christian sighed. "Well, I would lie if I said I wasn't disappointed, but the last thing that I want is to put pressure on you. Besides, I'm afraid that I don't have much to offer you in regard to a serious commitment. Unless you decide to move to Paris; then I think I might make a fool of myself and ask you to marry me," he said.

They both laughed before Jessica rubbed her face with both hands. "I am sorry," she repeated.

"Don't be, it's okay to be confused. Love isn't always black and white. I've been around the block a few more times than you, so take my word for it. You are a fine woman, Jess. You're gorgeous, smart and you're obviously going to be a great surgeon, which I find very sexy. But most importantly, you really care about people's feelings. That's rarer than you think."

He took her hand and pulled her up. "Let's go join the others, alright? If you ever decide that you want more, you'll know where to find me. And if not, I'll always have that kiss."

Jessica followed him back inside, her mind all over the place. I have to call Dad, she thought.

* * *

**Springfield, The Bauer's garage**

Ethan put down his guitar and sat on the couch, exhausted. Glancing at his watch, he realized with a start that he had been practising all afternoon, yet again. He waved Nate and David goodbye as they hurried back to their own places for dinner.

The Hammers had been rehearsing intensively for the past week, spending several hours a day holed up in the garage in preparation for their upcoming show. Ethan loved every minute of it and always pushed the others for more, until Nate, who was always the first to get tired, would jokingly threatened to go on strike. Only Erika seemed to be as driven as he was, and they would often continue their rehearsal alone, long after Nate and David had given up and left for the night. If questioned on why he put so much effort into it, Ethan would automatically answered that he was doing what he loved and that he wanted it to be perfect. While this was indeed the case, the whole truth was slightly more complex. Even if he found it hard to admit, it also helped taking his mind of a subject that unsettled him more and more each day, namely, Jessica.

As much as he tried to convince himself that everything was fine, he could not help but notice the subtle change that was taking place in their relationship. For the first few weeks after she had left for Paris, he could feel their connection as strongly as ever. Surely but slowly, however, it seemed to him that she started to drift away. Obviously, she was discovering and enjoying a whole new life which he knew nothing about, and which he could not share with her. His own accomplishments appeared insignificant in comparison, making him feel inconsequential.

For the umpteenth time, he replayed their last conversation in his mind while sitting despondently in the garage. He would have been happy that she had invited him to France, if it had not been from that mysterious tone in her voice which had made him doubt her true motives. She had sounded desperate; in need of rescuing even. The nagging suspicion that she had met someone else came back to haunt him, making him wince.

"Whatever you're thinking, it certainly looks unpleasant," Erika stated as she sat beside him, causing him to drop the music sheet he was still holding.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't notice that you were still here," he said, picking the sheet up and putting it in his guitar case.

"It's fine. I just wanted to go over some lyrics with you, but we can do it tomorrow if you prefer."

"No, you can stay. We'd better got this out of the way now." To his relief, Erika had proven a precious addition to the band from day one. Her intuition, her talent and her team spirit were such that her band mates almost could not remember how they had ever managed without her. Even so, she was still very guarded, and Ethan realized as they sat talking that he still knew very little about her.

"Say, you're a girl, right?" he asked abruptly, interrupting her in a middle of an idea for a chorus.

"Last time I checked, yes," she deadpanned. "Don't I look the part?"

"Of course you do! God, I can be such a clumsy asshole sometimes." Ethan blushed, recognizing how obscure he sounded, even though he had a very clear idea of what he wanted to ask her. He had felt too uncomfortable in the past weeks to discuss his relationship problems with his friends, but somehow, he felt that Erika might now be of help, and, more importantly, that she would be discreet. The last thing he wanted was to alert the whole town to the fact that he and Jessica were having difficulties.

"The reason I'm asking is that I'm looking for some insight into the female mind, so to speak. My girlfriend is away in Europe for the semester and, to be honest, I have begun to feel lately that we're losing touch. I just wish that I knew what she was thinking."

"I don't read minds either, sorry," Erika retorted in a dry tone that reminded him of his mother. He suddenly felt defeated. Seeing this, Erika's features softened. "I'm sorry, that was unkind of me. I'm just not sure how I can help you."

"Have you ever been into a long distance relationship?"

Erika nodded, her hands reaching for the plush of the couch. She started to pick at it mechanically.

"Was it hard to stay connected despite being physically apart?" Ethan asked, eager for all the advice he could get.

"Actually, my boyfriend and I broke up just a month ago. We had been dating for three years, but he left last fall to attend UCLA and we have been seeing very little of each other. In the end, the strain was just too great on our relationship," Erika said calmly, but plucking out a big chunk of plush from the couch.

"I'm very sorry. We don't have to talk about if it's too painful for you."

"I'm getting through it," she replied, ignoring his offer. "Joining this band is a life-saver, I will admit that."

"What happened?" Ethan asked, getting up to get them both a can of soda from the small refrigerator by his mother's car.

"He started having feelings for someone else, only he didn't tell me about it until it was too late. By then there was nothing that I could do to win him back."

"Interstate Love Song," Ethan then exclaimed, seemingly out of the blue. "That's why you chose to sing that song at your audition; am I right? You were singing about him?"

"I needed an outlet for the pain" Erika confirmed. "Are you afraid that your girlfriend might have met somebody else?"

Ethan nodded, a lump suddenly rising in his throat. To discuss the possibility made it seem more concrete. "She never mentioned anything or anyone to me, but I know her. I know that something is changed."

"I've you tried discussing it with her?"

"It's hard to find the right words; what if I'm imagining all of it?"

"Then she'll be touched that you want to protect the relationship. Don't be scared of asking the thoughts questions, Ethan. I was, and it cost me my boyfriend. Or maybe he was lost to me anyway, I don't know," Erika concluded despondently.

"You still love him?"

"I'm afraid so."

Their eyes met and Ethan could see the pain plainly in her eyes. How striking they were, he thought, suddenly moved. He took her hand and gave it a brief squeeze to give her courage. "In two weeks, you'll be owning that stage when we perform, and that loser will be sorry he's ever left you."

"He doesn't even know that I joined a band!" Erika replied, laughing in spite of herself.

"He'll feel it from across the country. That's how good you are."

The young woman finished her soda and walked to the door. "And you're nice. Jessica is lucky to have you, don't let her forget it," she said before leaving.

"Right," Ethan mumbled, glancing at the wall clock. He mentally counted the hours separating him from Jessica and decided to call her that very day, before she went to bed. He went back inside the house and dialed her hotel number, only to be told that there was no answer in her room. Crap, he thought, maybe Mom could tell me what to do.

* * *

**Springfield, Towers**

"Blake, Dylan, over here!"

Standing at the entrance of the restaurant, the couple noticed Alan-Michael waving to them from a table at the other end of the room.

"Are you dining alone?" Blake asked when they reached him, nodding at the empty chairs.

"I'm with Sam, actually. Phillip and Beth were supposed to join us, but they had to cancel at the last minute because their babysitter couldn't make it. Sit down!"

Blake and Dylan exchanged a look. Blake had finally met Dylan's ex-girlfriend the week before at Ross's office, and aside from a little awkwardness at the beginning, it had went rather well. Blake could not deny that Sam was as pleasant as everyone said, and that she did go out of her way to make her feel comfortable.

"I guess a dinner together won't kill us," Blake said with a wink.

"Oh, come on, Blake! Sam is my friend and there is no reason why you two can't get along," Alan-Michael said with a frown.

Blake cocked her head on one side. "Actually, I was talking about you, boss."

"Oh, well, in that case…"Alan-Michael mumbled while Dylan and Blake burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Samantha inquired, coming back from the ladies 'room. Alan-Michael shook his head dismissively. "I am, apparently. In any case, Dylan and Blake will be joining us for dinner."

There was only the faintest of blush on Samantha's cheeks as she replied that it was a great idea. After they had ordered, she insisted that Blake explain the extraordinary circumstances of her move to Springfield. Blake obliged, recounting how Roger had looked for her all over Europe, only to discover that she lived in San Francisco, how well her first meeting with her parents had went and how, after a few months of travelling back and forth between the West Coast and the Midwest, she had decided to move permanently.

"And the rest is history," Blake said, smoothing the skirt of her navy blue dress.

"You look at lot like your mother," Samantha replied, looking at Blake's red mane. "She's a good friend of my uncle; she was very nice to me when the first time that I lived here."

"Speaking about that, why did you come back to Springfield?" Dylan asked. There was a short silence and, before the brunette could answer, Alan-Michael interfered.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, Sam."

Samantha smiled bravely and waved a hand dismissively. "It's okay, people will find out anyway. I broke up with Daniel and let's just say that it did not sit well by him, so I decided that it would be best if I came back to Springfield."

"That's an understatement if I ever heard one. He threatened to kill you!" Alan-Michael, said, clearly incensed by the subject.

"What?" Dylan said, his eyes getting bigger than saucers. For obvious reasons, he had never liked Daniel St. John, but he never would have pegged him for a violent man either.

Samantha clasped her hands. "Daniel was not the man that I thought he was," she began, looking intently at her ex-boyfriend, which made Blake frowned inwardly. Was this an apology for leaving him, or an attempt at something more?

"After we moved to Chicago, I realized pretty quickly that there was something off with him. He would lose his temper for the most trivial of things, and he became extremely jealous and possessive. He constantly accused me of wanting to leave him, and so, after a while, I did begin to want that. There was also this whole nightmare about his ex-lover."

She paused again to take a sip from her glass of wine. "She was the wife of the chief of staff at the hospital where Daniel used to work in Boston. When he decided to end things, she got into her car and had an accident, which turned out to be fatal. He swears that it was a suicide, but the woman's sister, who tracked me down, says that he drugged her so that she would get into an accident, because he didn't want her to leave him."

"Is it true?" Blake asked, now genuinely horrified.

"The police cleared him, but frankly, I just don't know. The only thing that I became certain of was that I didn't love him anymore, and that I had to leave him. Now I have a restraining order against him. Pretty crazy, wouldn't you say?" she asked with a sad voice.

"He won't dare to come here; he knows that you have family and friends who will protect you."

Dylan nodded and tried to take an assertive tone without quite succeeding. "Alan-Michael is right; it's going to be fine."

"I hope you are right, both of you. I just can't shake this feeling of impending doom, though. You didn't see his eyes when he was menacing me. It goes way beyond anger management issues; Daniel is crazy.

"Maybe you could hire a bodyguard?" Blake suggested, picking at the piece of cheesecake which the waiter had just brought her.

Samantha shook her head. "I thought about that, but for how long? I cannot spend the rest of my life leaving in fear!"

They all sat in silence, digesting Samantha's last words. There was nothing that they could say to ease her worry, and all that they could do was hope that in time, Daniel would focus his attention elsewhere. As they took their leave later that evening, Blake gave the young woman a sincere hug. She could not help notice, however, the deep ridge that would not leave Dylan's brow all the way back to her apartment.

"What is it, baby? You haven't said a word since we left the Towers," she said as they got out of his car.

Dylan looked startled, and then sighed as he shut the door on the driver's side. "I was just wondering if Daniel is as really far gone as Sam thinks, or if she's just imagining it. Sometimes, when you are in a relationship or just out of one, it can be difficult to see things clearly."

Instead of answering, Blake just rubbed his arm comfortingly. Unfortunately, she thought with a twinge of sadness, it also seemed like she could read her boyfriend's heart more clearly than he could. I must talk to Holly, she thought.


	8. Endless and Eternal

"What are we going to do about the kids?" Holly asked as she stroked Roger's arm absent-mindedly. They had been sitting in the sand silently for almost half-an-hour, just gazing at the stars. Holly had never seen so many. The black night sky stretched above them, limitless, punctuated by clusters of lights.

Now she knew why Roger had insisted that they spent one night in the desert before they left Morocco. She had never seen such a sight, never known such peace. A little below them, at the base of the sand dune they had just escalated, they had left a fire burning, casting cheerful shadows on the side of their tent and jeep.

Roger pulled the wool blanket more tightly over their legs to protect them from the cold. In an hour or so, he estimated, the temperature would drop to a point where they would be able to see their breath. He hugged his wife more closely, anticipating the delicious sensation of snuggling against her in their sleeping bag.

"I don't think that there's anything that we can do, except be there for them if they need to talk," he finally said.

Holly rubbed her hands together and picked up the steaming mug of black tea lying in the sand beside her. "I hate to see Ethan hurting like this, Roger. He just wants to know what's going on. I know that Jessica confided in you and that you promised not to tell, but…" her voice trailed off, her heart breaking as she remembered the disheartened voice of her boy on the phone, merely hours ago, as he told her that he was scared of losing his girlfriend. Uncannily, Jessica's call had followed only minutes after, and she had recounted to Roger how she had met this other man, and how she now felt like her heart would end up ripped apart between the two.

"I don't think that it would be our place to let Ethan know about the situation. She promised that she would talk to him before taking any action, and I believe her. Don't you?"

Jessica's clear, candid blue gaze flashed before Holly's mind. "I guess so."

"The last thing that she wants to do is hurt him on purpose, and I know that whatever happens, she'll treat him with respect. If I thought for one second that she was going behind his back and making a fool out of him, I would call her on it, I hope you know that."

Roger looked so serious and earnest as he uttered the words that Holly could not help but smile a little. "I know."

"She won't string him along; we just have to give her a little time to figure things out for herself."

"I guess we always knew that this was something that could happen. They're so young, and God knows love doesn't always last forever."

Roger fell back on the sand with a thud, bringing Holly down with him. "I wouldn't give up on them just yet. The important thing, however, is that we don't let their problems become our problems. I don't want their relationship to come between us, ever, even if Jessica ends up breaking Ethan's heart, or vice-versa. Can we agree on that?" he asked, holding his little finger in the air for her to grab.

"I agree and solemnly pinky swear," Holly replied, talking hold of his finger.

"Because our love is like this," Roger continued after a while, pointing at the sky above. "It's beautiful and endless and eternal. And I refuse that anyone would come and spoil it, ever."

Holly smiled at her husband's overly romantic choice of words, although the most secret part of her thrilled to hear him refer to their love in such terms. "Well, if eternity does exist, I guess the proof lies right here, all around us. This sand has been here for ages, and no matter how violent the wind or scorching the sun, it has remained whole."

"Then all we have to do is weather the storms, and we'll be alright. We've been apart for twenty years and it hasn't stopped us from loving each other. It's a pretty good start," Roger concluded in a secure tone, making Holly smile again. How she loved his confidence!

"Twenty years versus eternity, hum! We'll see how it goes," she retorted teasingly, burying her face in the nape of his neck.

"Laugh all you want, but don't be surprised that I'm still around when we both turn a hundred." Roger pulled himself up and lifted her. "Let's get back to the tent; it's getting cold."

They half walked and half sled down the dune to their camp. Roger unzipped the tent door and ushered Holly in. "Quick, we don't want to let anything in there but us," he said, following her inside. He turned on the lantern hanging from the ceiling and they both slipped inside the sleeping bag, which was spread on a cot so that they would not get stung by the scorpions that would assuredly end up crawling under the tent. Holly grabbed two blankets from her backpack and piled them over them both. When this was done, she took off her sweater, lay down and wrapped her body around her husband's.

"Have you ever made love in the desert?" she asked as she gently stroked his chest over his wife-beater.

"Yes. Sand ends up everywhere, and I mean, everywhere."

"Oh!" Holly said.

Seeing the obvious disappointment on her face, Roger laughed out loud. "Oh, honey! Take my word for it when I say that this is for the best. I chaffed for days, and so did the lady, bless her soul!"

Holly snickered, pretending to be jealous of Roger's old lover. Roger kissed her before she could make any disparaging remark.

"Besides, if we…exert ourselves in this weather, we'll catch a cold. We have to keep a minimum of clothes on," he continued.

"I don't see how keeping our clothes on ever got in the way before, but, fine, I'll take your word for it."

"I'll make it up to you at our next stop, I promise."

"Speaking of which, we'd better decide where we're going if we are to leave in a couple of days!"

Roger reached for the lantern and turned it off, then flipped Holly on her side so that he could lie against her back. "You decide."

Holly pictured the world map in her mind, quickly dismissing Africa, Asia, Australia and South America as either too far or too hot. They would keep those for the fall and the winter.

"How about Scandinavia? It's cooler but still nice weather," she finally suggested.

"I'm in," he whispered sleepily in her hair. "And the days are long at this time of year. I always wanted to see a midnight sun."

"I'll make arrangements when we get back to the hotel tomorrow. Sweden might be nice."

"Or Finland," Roger said, casually.

"Do you mean Finland, the country with the saunas and the lakes? Or Finland, the country that shares a border with Russia?" Holly asked, craning her neck to look at her husband inquisitively.

Roger's embarrassment was immediately palpable. "What's the harm in being near?" he finally asked. "When this whole ordeal with Paul blows over, Jack might stop by for a visit on his way back to the States. It would rather nice to see him, actually."

"If this thing blows over, you mean. You seem to have this unshakable faith that Jack will succeed in rescuing Paul. I wish I was that confident."

"If it can be done, then Jack is the man to do it."

"And if not?"

"Let's not think about that."

A fresh wave of guilt washed over her. Even after all these years, Paul remained very dear to her, and the thought that his life might be in danger filled her with dread. But if Roger ended up losing his friend so that she could keep hers, he would never forgive her.

"Do you have any news from Jack?"

"Not since he left for Russia, but I'm expecting a call from him tomorrow if all goes well. I left a message at the ranch and gave the housekeeper our number in Marrakech. Jack told me that he would call home whenever he could to know where to reach me."

Holly turned to face him and ran her fingers on his cheeks before kissing him on the lips. No matter how hard she tried, she could not ignore the tension pervading his shoulders or the way he clutched at her back.

"You're right; it's going to be fine," she finally said, desperately wanting to believe it.

* * *

They got up at dawn and departed quickly, leaving the rising heat of the desert behind them. By noon, they were back in the soothing shade of their hotel room, where Holly immediately busied herself making phone reservations to different hotels in Finland.

"Would you like to rent a _mökki_ while we're there?" She asked Roger between two phones calls.

Roger folded a pair of pants and crammed it in his already bursting suitcase, making Holly cringe. She made a note to rearrange the content of the luggage later.

"What's a _mökki_?" He grabbed the suitcase and heaved it to the door. "You know what? Go ahead and surprise me."

"Fine." As she was about to pick up the phone once again, it rang, making her jump.

"Holly Thorpe," she said, expecting Jack's voice.

"Hi, Mom!" Blake's voice resonated trough the handset, making Holly smile.

"Blake! How are you?"

"Not bad. How is your trip?"

Holly frowned, immediately sensing that something was wrong. "It's perfect. Is everything all right? You sound under the weather."

"Actually, I am having a little bit of love troubles," Blake said in a trembling voice. "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course, always! How is Dylan?"

"Samantha Marler is back in town."

"Oh." Holly heart's sank. She remembered how strong the connection between Sam and Dylan had been when they had first come to town a few years ago. She had never really understood why Sam had chosen to leave him for Daniel St. John.

Blake let out a mirthless laugh. "That's the reaction that I've been getting from almost everyone."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Dylan has a past, and so does everyone. I just never thought that his past would come back to haunt us."

"Did something happen between them?"

"No, and he swears that it's over, but, Holly, I know in my heart that he still has feelings for her, even if he doesn't want to admit it to himself."

"What makes you say that?"

"The way he frets over her and the way he looks at her. He never looked at me like that."

"I'm so sorry," Holly repeated. She wished that she could snap her fingers and magically appear in her daughter's apartment. "It might not be over for you two. Maybe he still has feelings for her, but that doesn't mean that he necessarily wants to rekindle their relationship. Maybe he's telling the truth when he says that it's over."

"I know, but the whole thing made me realize something else," Blake said sheepishly. "When I discovered that he still had feelings for her, it made me furious, then jealous, but if I have to be totally honest, the only thing that has been truly hurt through all this is my pride."

"What are you saying?"

"That I am very fond of Dylan, but that I am not sure if I really love him. I don't feel for him what he feels for Sam. I don't even feel for him what he feels for me! I'm a terrible person!"

Holly put a hand to her mouth to repress a smile. In the last year, she had been quick to discover Blake's tendency to exaggerate. In her defense, Blake had never denied her fondness for drama, which she referred to as the spice of life. Yet, when in the midst of it, she seemed to lose all her bearings and immediately assume that the worst was to come. Holly suspected that this was the one thing the peaceful influence of her adoptive parents had not succeeded in rooting out of her. I probably would have made a worse job, she thought.

"You're not a terrible person, honey. You can't control who you love."

"What if I am incapable of ever falling in love? It hasn't happen yet!" Blake replied with the voice of doom.

Again, Holly had to stifle a laugh. "I wish you would not think of yourself as some heartless freak. You're one of the most loving people that I know! It will happen; give yourself time."

"How will I know? I thought that I loved Dylan, until I realized that it was mostly friendship and physical attraction."

"When you'll meet that person, you'll know that you're in love."

"Do you think that there is only one?"

"Oh, no! I think that there are many people out there who could make you happy."

"But for you, it was always Dad."

"Because life played out that way. I met him when I was just a teenager, and he ruined me for all the others." Holly said with a smile, the young Roger flashing before her eyes, with his striped T-Shirt and his shock of black hair.

"But you knew right away that he was the one!"

"Not really; not the way you think. I knew that I loved him, but for a very long time, I thought I would never see him again, and I had to try and build a new life for myself. I know our story sounds romantic, Blake, but the last twenty years have been extremely hard at times. I had lost him, and I had lost you. I certainly hope that it will be easier for you."

There was a short silence on the line as Blake mused over her mother's words.

"I was wondering, if it's alright with you, if I could come and meet you earlier for the summer vacations," she finally said. "I could really use the time away to clear my head, but I can go to San Francisco if it's a problem."

"Don't be silly; we would love to have you with us."

"Don't you want to check with Roger?"

"He'll feel the same, believe me. He won't shut up about all of you for five minutes," Holly said in a confident tone. "We'll be in Finland, I will fax you the address as soon as we check in our hotel in Helsinki."

"I really appreciate it, Mom. I just have to ask Alan-Michael's permission to move my vacation forward, but it should be okay, I think. I'll call you back tomorrow."


	9. A Plan is Born

**Helsinki, some days later**

When Holly and Roger got out of the plane in Helsinki, they were met with a bright blue sky and clean, crisp air which they gladly welcome after Morocco's blazing heat. Roger fell into a light slumber as the taxi took them to their hotel, which was right off the Senate Square in the heart of the city, while Holly gazed outside the window, drinking in the sights of the white buildings, the trees and the water, which seemed to be everywhere.

They passed behind the Helsinki Cathedral, with its majestic green copper domes and came to a halt before their hotel. Holly gently poked Roger on the right shoulder and then woke him up with a kiss on the cheek.

"Come on, old man, let's get you upstairs for a proper nap," she said, with laughter in her voice.

Roger dragged himself out of the cab and tipped the driver, while a bellboy took their luggage inside. "If only I could blame it on jet lag," he said before yawning.

"We did leave at 4AM this morning. A couple of hours of sleep should put you back on track."

They were led to their very modern-looking room, sporting simple lines and soothing whites, greys and light blues. Roger immediately collapsed on the bed, wrapping the fluffy comforter around him, while Holly went to part the gauzy curtains and the patio doors, letting a gentle breeze in. Then she sprawled on the bed beside her husband and stretched in delight.

"I should take a nap also, if I can. The evenings are long in Helsinki, from what I gathered." She was right. The summer solstice was approaching fast and with it, the longest day of the year. Citizens flooded the streets well past midnight almost every day during that period, dining out, drinking or simply soaking up in the sun before the darkness of winter fell upon them once again.

Roger turned on his side to face her and reached for the top button of her blouse. He slowly started to undo it, burying his face in the crook of her neck all the while. "I sleep better in the nude, don't you?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, let me see," she replied, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. Roger found her mouth and they kissed, playfully at first, then more avidly. Roger ran his hands down her back and rolled over her, while she reached for his belt, the idea of sleep long gone from both their minds.

It was then that the phone rang. They successfully ignored the first two rings before conceding defeat. Roger rolled down his back, snatched the receiver and answered tersely.

His expression brightened as he heard the voice of his interlocutor. He briskly sat upright. "Jack! How are you?" He fell silent, his frown deepening as he listened to his friend's reply.

Holly sat beside him, eagerly searching his face for clues as to what Jack was saying. Roger glanced her way and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Jack, I'm with Holly here. I'll put you on speakerphone so that she can hear too."

Roger put the handset on the bed and pushed a button. The ex-agent deep voice suddenly boomed in the room, ricocheting on the walls. "Hello, there! That silly man is not giving you too much trouble, I hope?"

Holly laughed. "I can handle him just fine."

"I bet you can!" Jack's tone turned serious. "Listen, I was just telling Roger that I finally tracked down your friend Paul."

Holly caught her breath and shot a look at Roger.

"Is he hurt?"

"Not yet. He's being held in a mansion just outside of Moscow. The house belongs to one of his bosses."

"One of the men who hired him to build the condos?"

"Exactly. They need him to finish his job, so they haven't mistreated him too much until now. They lock him up in a cell at night, thought, in the basement, and he's heavily guarded whenever he has to go on one of the construction sites."

"How do you know all this?" Roger inquired, his old agent training kicking in.

"There are two men running this operation, and both are well known to the CIA. One of them is named Alexandrov, the other Vasiliev. I followed each one until I discovered the mansion, and there, I found a servant who was willing enough to talk."

"How much did you have to shell out?"

"Some."

Roger frowned and shook his head. "How much?"

They could almost hear Jack shrug at the other end of the line. "Ten grand." Holly's eyes widened as she heard the figure.

"Don't you worry about me, there is plenty more where that came from. Besides, I'm retired and I need a hobby. What are savings for?"

"You're thirty-six, not eighty. I'll pay you back when I see you," Roger said, clearly irritated by his friend's reckless behavior.

"Don't bother. Turns out this Paul is loaded. He'll pay me back when I get him out."

"Really? And how do you plan on accomplishing that?"

"I've been devising a few plans. The simplest way would be to get to him when he's being escorted to work. The problem is that, even if I succeed, the alarm will be given right away, and that will be making it very hard to leave the country in one piece."

"The other option would be to get him from inside," Roger said. He was now pacing across the room, his eyes focused, his mind analysing every possibility. Holly peered at him in wonder. So this is what he must have looked like in his years as an agent. For a split second, she forgot all about Paul, Jack and the escape plan, and came close to hang up the phone and pin her husband to the floor to show him the time of his life.

She checked herself, however, and tore herself away from the sight of Roger's naked upper body and ruffled hair to focus back on the conversation.

"Yes, I thought about that. I would have to get hired as a servant, or better, as the driver."

"Surely they wouldn't hire an American?" Holly asked.

"Of course not, I'll have to pass off as a Russian," Jack answered casually.

Holly glanced at Roger and made a face. "Is he crazy?" she mouthed.

Roger smiled and sat in a nearby armchair. "Jack is very gifted with languages. It's is specialty, actually. Show her, Jack."

Jack obliged by saying a few words in a language that Holly could not understand, but that sounded Russian enough to her ears.

"They'll do a background check before hiring you," Roger stated matter-of-factly.

"O'Hara is working on the false papers; passport, birth certificate, the whole nine yards."

"Who's O'Hara?" Holly interrupted, trying to keep track.

"He's one of the American agents stationed in Moscow. He won't help me with the operation _per se_, but he agreed to do at least this. He owes me," Jack replied with a chuckle in his voice.

"What for?"

"For not sleeping with his girlfriend. She wanted too, you know."

Holly tried to be offended, but the humour in Jack's voice made it next to impossible. Instead, she forced him to veer back to the plan, lest he and Roger would start swapping stories about the good old days. "How will you make them hire you? They might not need anyone for months, and we don't have that much time."

"The servant that I paid off might be persuaded to fall unexpectedly ill and to recommend me as his replacement. I'm working on him; he's supposed to give me his answer tonight."

"How do you know he won't betray you?"

"I don't, but I have to take that chance if we want to get Paul out."

Holly squirmed on the bed, getting more and more uncomfortable, up to the point where she felt that she had to speak out. "You don't have to do this, Jack. You don't even know him! I would totally understand if you backed out now."

"And let these crooks get away with this? No way! This is my calling, Holly, catching the bad guys. It's in my blood. While I'm there, I might gather enough information to leak to the press and to get Alexandrov and Vasiliev behind bars for good."

"How can we get in touch with you while you're in there?" Roger asked.

"I will call you within a week, whatever happens. Let your number at the ranch."

They said goodbye before Holly hung the phone back up. She went to her Roger and sat in his lap. "You're right; he is something else."

Roger sighed and pulled her closer. "He's fearless, always been."

"You know who he reminds me of?"

"Who?"

"Batman."

Roger chortled. "Please tell me I'm not Robin in this story."

"You're James Bond; I thought we'd established that already," she replied, running a hand over his chest.

"That's right, I forgot. So that makes you a Bond girl?" Roger said, kissing her neck and running his hand up her skirt. She shifted her weight and straddled him, returning his kiss, this time on the lips. She tore herself away just long enough to answer.

"I believe that it makes me Bond's _wife_."

Roger moaned hungrily. "Bond is one lucky man." He grabbed her thighs firmly, lifted her up and carried her to the bed.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Holly woke up with a start, alone. She glanced at her watch, and fell back on the bed; there was still plenty of time before dinner. She was about to reach for her dressing gown when Roger came back into the room, carrying a several letters.

"The world has finally caught up with us, I'm afraid. Here's your mail," he said, handing her a pile before crossing over to the bathroom. "I'll be in the shower. Feel free to join me," he added, stripping and tossing his shirt in her direction before closing the door.

Holly went rapidly through her correspondence, putting the letters regarding WSPR aside. She was about to throw the rest on the desk next to the phone when the last one made her pause. It had been redirected so many times that it was hard for her at first to recognize where it originally came from, especially since there was no return address. When she finally did, however, she gasped in surprise.

It had been mailed from Russia.

* * *

**Springfield, the same day**

"So that's it? You're leaving?"

Dylan was sitting on the living room couch in Blake's apartment, still trying to grasp what was going on. Blake had just announced that she had booked a trip to Finland to join her parents, alone.

"Please don't look at me this way," Blake said, taking his hands in hers. "I really need some time away."

"I don't understand. You need some time away from me?" he replied, looking hurt.

"Away from this crazy love triangle. Do you know how many times you have mentioned Sam's name in the last hour? Five times; I counted."

Dylan blushed furiously. "I'm concerned! Daniel St. John has been spotted in Clayton just last week. That's right outside of Springfield!" he spluttered.

Blake bowed her head and took a deep breath, bracing for the rest of the conversation. "I know that you're concerned, Dylan, but I think it's more than that. I think that a big part of you cannot let go of Sam."

He shook his head vehemently; still bent on denying any feeling he might have for his ex-girlfriend. "We can get through this. We can fight this together."

Blake took hold of his chin and gazed into his eyes, making sure that she got her meaning across. "I'm not sure that this is a battle that I want to fight. I am sorry."

Dylan stared at her for a few seconds, his mouth slightly agape. "Are you breaking up with me?" he finally asked in an incredulous tone.

Blake ran her hands through her hair. "No, but I want us to take some time away from each other so that we can both figure out what we want. You see, Dylan, I should be much more upset than I am that you still have feelings for her." She raised a finger to stop him before he could interrupt her. "And that's not normal. We both deserve to be with someone who loves us truly and completely."

He got up and almost banged in hand on the table in frustration, but stopped himself.

She joined in and forced him to face her. "Can you honestly stand here and tell me that you didn't see this coming? That there was no cloud on the horizon?"

"There's always a cloud on the horizon, Blake, this is what life is like," he retorted bitterly. He grabbed his jacket and walked to the door. "Call me when you make up your mind about us."

"You might call me first; I wouldn't be surprised."

Blake slowly walked back to the couch. She was almost certain that the relationship was over, but only time and absence would tell.


	10. Father and Son

Note: I'm going back into some of the characters's past in this chapter. You'll see that I took the liberty of changing certains things and relationships to fit this alternate universe.

* * *

"Have you ever been unfaithful, Dad?"

Ed, who was about to bite into a piece of toast, stopped, holding his bread in mid-air. Ethan and he had stopped by Company to grab breakfast before going to Cedars and, up to that point, all Ethan had been able to ramble on about was his upcoming show.

"Why are you asking me this?" Ed finally inquired, an almost-forgotten sense of shame creeping out of the recesses of his heart. Besides his alcoholism, his past inability to stay true to his wives was what mortified him the most. Not only had he cheated on his first wife (and the mother of his son Rick), Leslie, he had also been unfaithful to the love of his life, Maureen, three times.

It could almost be said that the first of those three times did not count. He had slept with Claire Ramsey purely out of despair, because he had thought at that time that Maureen and Claire's husband, Fletcher Reade, had died in a bombing in Beirut. When his wife had turned out alive the next day, Ed had been overjoyed and yet determined to keep his affair a secret. What was the point of hurting Maureen by disclosing something that was as meaningless as his encounter with Claire? He had no way of knowing at the time that he had made the latter pregnant with a beautiful little baby girl who would end up being named Michelle. As it always does, however, the truth eventually came out, breaking Claire's marriage and almost tearing Maureen and Ed apart. Fortunately for the couple, things fell back into place. Claire's increasingly erratic behavior led Ed to apply for full custody of Michelle a few years later, and Maureen gladly adopted the girl, whom she now saw as her own.

The second time Ed had cheated on Maureen had caused at least as much trouble, even if, once again, Ed had benefited from extenuating circumstances. He had never planned on sleeping with Holly, after their divorce, and yet it had happened several times. Their affair had taken place shortly after Holly's return from Europe, freshly divorced for Dietrich Lindsey. At that time, Ed had been separated from Maureen because of her platonic infatuation with Fletcher Reade, which was poetic justice considering Ed's one night stand with Claire just a few years ago. Maureen, however violently attracted she felt to Fletcher, had ultimately decided not to pursue their budding relationship, seeing that he was unable to truly respond to her feelings. Ed, on the other hand, had not been able to resist acting out on his old fascination to Holly. As soon as he had laid eyes on her, he had been taken once again by her beauty, which he had always found spellbinding, and by her new aura of European sophistication, which took him miles away from his mundane married life. As for Holly, her love life in shambles, she had not been able to deny herself the comfort of his renewed attentions, and so they had both jumped head first into a passionate and intensely physical affair. It had quickly fizzled out, however, when Holly had realized that Ed was still in love with Maureen after all, and she with him. That Ed could now see Holly as his dearest friend was a turn of events that still amazed him, while making him extremely thankful.

The third time that Ed had been unfaithful to Maureen had almost meant to end of their marriage, and the end of Maureen's life, and he could not recall the events following her discovery of his affair without his mouth going dry. After having helped his friend and colleague Lillian Raines through her fight against breast cancer, he had found himself increasingly attracted to her charms. To this day, he could not understand what had caused that final lapse on his part, except that maybe he had been turned on by her vulnerability and by her intense need for him, as a friend at first, and then as a man and almost as a savior. Trapped in a parking lot during the blackout, they had given in to their passion by kissing, and a few weeks later had consummated their relationship. It had happened only once, and Ed had regretted it immediately and bitterly. Once again, Maureen had eventually found out and, fleeing from him, had gotten into a car accident which had left her in a coma for several days. She had spent the next months at the hospital, in rehabilitation, and refusing to see him. Once her recovery had been complete, she had asked Ed to move into the garage apartment, to the dismay of their whole family, who were unaware of the reason behind their separation. It had taken all of Ed's willpower not to go off the wagon again, and not to give up on their marriage. He had, however, dropped so much weight that the sight of his wasted body was what had finally convinced Maureen to give counselling a try. After several more months, they had gotten close enough again to contemplate reconciliation. Now, Ed's first waking moment of everyday was dedicating to thanking life for this chance he had been granted. He knew that this was his last.

"Dad, are you still with me?"

Ed looked at Ethan, his gaze snapping into focus, and finally put his toast down. "I'm sorry, my mind wandered for a second. This is a very delicate subject that you're bringing up. May I know why?"

Ethan shifted in his seat, his brow darkening. "Jessica is coming back in a few days, and she says that we have to talk. Whenever I told a girl that we needed to talk, it was always because I had to be forgiven for something," he declared, picking at his eggs dejectedly.

"Aren't you jumping the gun here? Maybe that's not it at all."

"She's pulled away from me, Dad, since she left for Paris. She still sounds the same, but she's not. Something happened, I know it."

Ed gazed at his son empathically. Young love was the cruellest, he remembered that. "It doesn't necessarily mean that she cheated on you."

"What if she did? And what if she asks me to forgive her?"

"Well, what if she does?"

"Wouldn't it be stupid of me to forgive her?"

Ed reached over the table and grabbed Ethan's shoulders. "Not necessarily. If she did cheat on you and wants to confess, you can hear her out and then decide if you want to resume your relationship or not. It doesn't make you weak or stupid to forgive her, as long as it feels right to you and that you're doing it for the right reasons."

"How do you know for sure?"

Ed sighed, torn between the desire to help Ethan and his fear that the truth about his infidelities might diminish him in his son's eyes. In the end, it was the thought of Maureen which held him back. Maybe Ethan was old enough to know about Michelle, and about all the other things, but he could not disclose any information without getting his wife's approval first. And of all of his affairs, the one with Holly was the one that he felt less inclined to revealed to his son, suspecting that it would only confuse him. He took a deep breath and chose his words carefully.

"This is a very private matter to every couple, Ethan, but I can tell you at least this: I've been cheated on, by the same woman, twice. The first time, it felt right to forgive her, and I'm glad that I did. The second time, however, I knew that I couldn't get pass it, because the circumstances were vastly different that the first time."

Ethan opened his eyes wide, trying to imagine his father being, well, a cuckold. He was shocked to discover that one might actually choose to get over such a betrayal, not out of weakness, but out of trust in the strength of the relationship. Then a second thought occurred to him, which made him put his cup of coffee down. Ed read the fear in his face and immediately understood.

"It wasn't your mother. It was Rita."

Ethan nodded, relieved. The idea that his mother could have been unfaithful to her father was too much for him to handle. On the other hand, being very young at the time, he barely remembered Rita Stapleton, the woman Ed had dated briefly after his mother. The only thing that he recalled that she was very beautiful, yet always sad.

"And you took her back even though she slept with another man?" Ethan asked, still not knowing how to feel about it.

"The first time, yes. I had neglected her because of work, and even if it doesn't excuse what she did, I do feel that I had my share of responsibilities in what had happened."

Ethan pondered over his fathers' words and examined his own behavior. I don't think that I did anything to push Jessica away," he finally said.

"I know, son. As I said, every story is different. You'll figure out what's right for you. And you know what; it might not even be what she wants to tell you," Ed replied with a reassuring smile. He looked at his watch and motioned to the waiter for the check.

Ethan looked away, unconvinced. How could he ever deal with it if his beautiful Jessica ever betrayed him?


	11. From Russia with Love

**Helsinki**

"Holly, what's wrong?" Roger asked his wife as they were lying in bed side by side, a few days after they had arrived in Finland. Blake was due to arrive at the Helsinki's airport that very evening, and they had locked themselves up in their hotel room that afternoon to enjoy as much of each other's body as they could before they had to act civilized in front of their daughter. That oversexed crazed look they had been sporting for the last weeks just had to go.

To Roger's dismay, however, he was finding Holly strangely unresponsive, absent even, as he made love to her. She turned away from him, but not quickly enough for him to miss the expression of embarrassment creeping in her face. Roger reached for her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's okay if you don't feel like it. Just don't pull away," he asked, unsettled by her attitude, which was so unlike what he was used to, coming from her.

Holly flipped her legs out of the bed and sat for a moment, then silently got up and went to her suitcase. Roger's eyes followed her naked body as she came back to him, holding a letter. "This was in the mail that you brought the other day. I'm surprised that you haven't noticed it," she said in a flat voice, handing it to him.

Roger sat and took the letter, and shock registered in his eyes as he realized that it came from Russia. He shot a quick look at his wife, but her hands were covering her eyes, as if she was trying to rub away the tension from her face. "I suppose that this is from Paul?"

"Just read it."

Roger took the letter out its envelope and unfolded it. He first noticed the date; the letter had been written three months ago. Several sentences had been crossed out and rendered illegible, but the rest went as follow:

"Dearest Holly,

This may be the last chance that I have to tell you what's in my heart. Although our time together was much too brief, it is embedded forever in my memory. No woman has ever measured up to you in my eyes; you are the love of my life. Please remember me when I'm gone,

Paul"

Roger resisted the urge to tear the letter to pieces and tossed it aside roughly on the bed. "May I just say, first of all, that this guy is a royal pain in the ass?" he finally hissed through his teeth.

"You may," Holly said, kneeling in front of him and resting the palms of her hands on his bare thighs.

Roger looked at her accusingly. "Why didn't you show me this before?"

Holly shook her head. "Because I was afraid that you would react this way. I didn't ask for this letter, Roger, and surely you know that I did not enjoy reading it. It's been eating at me for days."

"And made you not want to make love to me."

Holly did her best not to roll her eyes in frustration. Roger's jealousy was the thing she felt the least able to handle. Had she not proven to him countless times how much she loved him and wanted him, and only him? She had gotten engaged to him mere weeks after they had been catapulted back into each other's life, she had dropped her entire life to follow him, and gladly, to the end of the Earth. What more could she do, really?

"I understand that reading this is upsetting. I'm not happy to show you this, believe me, but I thought it might help Jack in his investigation, somehow."

Roger took a deep breath and reached for the letter once again. "You're right; there might be a clue somewhere in there that could help us." He perused it carefully a couple of times, then put it down.

"Clearly, the letter has been read by someone else before it has been sent, and it was that person that crossed out these sentences here, and here," Roger said, pointing at the blotted parts.

"Because they revealed information as to his whereabouts or as to who had kidnapped him?"

"Exactly. My feeling is that Paul wasn't dumb enough to flat out name his jailers, but that his censor didn't feel like taking any chances."

Holly ran a hand through her hair. This did not make any sense to her.

"Then why let him write to me at all? Why not just destroy the letter?"

A gleam came into Roger's eyes. "Ah, very good question, and this is where it gets interesting. My theory is that Paul has found, not a friend exactly, but someone who cared enough to take pity on him and who agreed to mail this letter on his behalf. If we could only find out who this person is, then we could relay the information to Jack, and it might be of tremendous help to get them both out of there safely."

"Maybe it was the servant that Jack was referring to the other day."

"Maybe. We know that this person works at the mansion and is able to read English, so that should narrow it down considerably. Alexandrov and Vasiliev are out of the question, obviously. I'll leave a message at the ranch later today, and hopefully, Jack will be able to figure out the identity of this mystery helper."

Holly prompted herself on his knees and planted a kiss on his lips. "Are you sure you still want to be involved in this? You have absolutely no reason to be worried about Paul and I, but still, I could understand if you wanted to back out."

Roger ran a hand down her back and grabbed her waist, pulling her to him. "Let's just say that I'm doing this to help Jack, okay?" He kissed her with such force that her head tilted back and she had to clutch at his shoulders for balance.

"And I'm sorry that I lashed out at you earlier, but when you didn't want to make love, I just assumed that it was because of the letter, and that made my skin crawl," he added in a low voice, cupping one of her breasts and bending to kiss her neck.

Holly inhaled sharply before replying. "It was keeping a secret from you that made me feel guilty, not the content of the letter. Now you know about it, so it's all good," she said, nestling more deeply between his legs.

"It is? Show me then, before that daughter of ours gets here," he said before lifting her up on the bed and rolling on top of her.

**Clayton**

Daniel St. John sat at the tiny desk of his hotel room just outside of Clayton, wondering what Samantha might be doing at that precise moment. How he missed her! He got up and faced the opposite wall, which was covered with tens of pictures of the brunette.

To this day, he still wondered why she had deserted him. If he could only talk to her, he knew that he could make her see that he was right for her. He lovingly traced the contours of her face, pinned against the wall, before his brow darkened. There was no use trying to see her at her uncle's house, nor at their office. Ross would do anything to prevent it, and there was also the matter of that preposterous restraining order. He grabbed a glass of scotch on his night stand and emptied it in one gulp. No one was ever on his side; nobody wanted him to have what he wanted.

He would have to get to her in a public place, like a restaurant or a park. Towers was too risky, as well as the country club. The Diner maybe, or Company?

He walked to his bed and rummaged through several bags, taking out a beard, thick glasses, a hat and a set of false teeth. He could not believe that he had to resort to such cheap tricks to see Samantha, but he had no choice. He had to see her, and when he did, he would make her love him again, whether she liked it or not.

**French Riviera**

Jessica picked up a picture of Ethan in her wallet and gazed at it with troubled eyes. She would be seeing him in a just few days when she flew back to Springfield, a prospect that seemed almost unreal to her, after all this time. Would she know if she loved him more than Christian simply by laying eyes on him? And if she did want to stay with him, would she confess her attraction to another man? Would he forgive her?

She dropped on her bed and put the picture back in her wallet. She had made good on her own promise to keep away from her teacher for the remainder of her vacation, in an attempt to clear her head, and Christian had respected her decision, but nothing seemed to help. Wherever she was and whatever she was doing, all she could think about was the two men in her life. Sometimes, at night, she would almost hope that Christian would barge into her room and profess his love to her, leaving her no choice but to fall into his arms. Other times, she would fall into a troubled sleep, dreaming of Ethan's smile, and the way he would put his arms around her.

Maybe the next few days would finally bring her some answers. She would have to face the music soon enough in any case.


	12. Can't Argue With A Thorpe

**Helsinki**

A couple of hours later, Roger and Holly were still in bed, but this time, Holly was far from passive. She wrapped her legs tightly around her husband's waist when he tried to tear himself away from her after they had made love for the second time. "Don't go just yet," she whispered, "I just want to feel you inside of me a little while longer."

Roger smiled and buried his face in her neck, inhaling the scent of her. "I have to get dress to go pick up Blake. I'm late already."

Holly raised her head to kiss him one last time and reluctantly let him go to the shower. "Do you want me to call the ranch and to get them the message about the letter while you're in the shower?" she asked after a few seconds in a loud voice to cover the sound of the water running.

"Yes!" Roger yelled in his turn before starting to hum a Stevie Wonder song.

Holly rolled over on her side and grabbed the phone. Stan, the ranch manager, immediately picked up, as if he had been waiting for the call.

"Thank God, you finally called!" he cried after Holly announced herself. She sat upright, dread suddenly washing over her.

"What's going on? You sound terrible!"

"A certain O'Hara called. He said Jack was in trouble and that you were to call him back as soon as possible. He left a number."

Holly grabbed a pen on the nightstand and wrote down the number on her forearm. "Damn!" she said after hanging up. She waited for Roger to come out of the shower, thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong with her husband's best friend, and by the time that Roger came back into the room, she was as white as a sheet.

"Honey?" he said, dropping his towel on the floor and rushing to her side. "What is it?"

Holly swallowed hard, hardly able to return his stare. Somehow, she felt responsible for Jack's fate. "You have to call O'Hara," she finally managed to say, pointing at her arm.

Roger paled and picked up the phone.

"Put it on speakers," Holly added before grabbing and putting on her robe.

"O'Hara," a voice answered after the second ring.

"It's Roger."

There was an audible sigh at the other end of the line. "I've been expecting your call."

"What happened to Jack?" Roger inquired, straight to the point. He felt his voice cracking and took a deep breath to control it. He was used to being thrown in situations like this, he reminded himself, and so was Jack. It would be fine.

"From what I could gather, he got caught yesterday at the mansion. He had been hired to replace…"

"Yes, I know of the plan. What happened?" Roger interrupted impatiently.

"The servant that he had bribed turned on him."

Holly put a hand over her mouth to suppress a cry of horror, and leaned against Roger. "Is he alive?" she finally asked.

"To my knowledge, yes, but he doesn't have a lot of time left. As soon as they're finished interrogated him and figure out who he is, they'll get rid of him."

"Well, do something about it then! You're with the CIA!" Holly shouted, but Roger only shook his head. He already knew what O'Hara's answer would be.

"I cannot interfere in this type of matters. It could set off a political incident and frankly, nobody wants that. My orders are very clear, I'm sorry. I thought that I should let you know nonetheless." His voice was resolute, yet some emotion still managed to get through if you listened closely enough.

"Where is that mansion exactly?" Roger then asked, picking up Holly's pen and a notepad. O'Hara had only vague directions to give him, but assured him that everyone in that area knew of the place.

"Thanks," Roger replied in a steady voice, not waiting for an answer before hanging up.

He went to the closet and started to dress hastily, then opened his suitcase and began to throw clothes randomly into it. Holly watched him for a few moments in silence before the penny dropped. She got up and took him by the arm, forcing him to face her.

"You're not going to Russia," she said, more as a command than a question.

Roger averted his eyes and tried to resume his packing, but she would not let him. "I can't just leave him there, Holly. He's like a brother to me. What would you do if your brother was in terrible danger? Would you just sit by and watch?" Roger finally said. He went to the mini bar and grabbed a small bottle of vodka.

Holly waited for him to take a sip before taking the bottle away from him. She was also in dire need of something to steel her nerves. "I know, Roger, but think about me. Think about the kids! Blake is in this very city as we speak. You can't leave us!" she replied, trying to control the mounting panic in her voice.

"There's no other way. I'm the only one who can get him out."

Holly peered into her husband's face and this time, he did not avoid her gaze. She knew him well enough to know that his decision was made. Something then snapped inside of her, releasing waves of anger and fear.

"You can't do this!" she shouted, taking a step toward him, "You promised me, just a few months ago, before all of our friends, and before God, that you would stand by me. You can't go. You promised!"

Roger took a few steps back. She was right, and yet, he would never be able to live honorably, knowing that he had left his friend to his fate. "You have to trust me, Holly, that everything will be fine. I'll get him out and we'll both come back here safely. I swear."

Holly refrained from throwing the vodka bottle in his face. "You're selfish, that's what you are. And Jack is too! Why did he have to meddle into this in the first place? He knew that you would have his back if something ever happened to him," she roared, on the edge of losing all control.

A flash of anger passed through Roger's eyes. "You have some nerves, calling people selfish, you know that? You're the one who first asked me to help your dumbass friend Paul, who, might I remind you, got himself into trouble all by himself!"

Paul, Holly thought. Yes, Paul had known the risk of staying in Russia and had done it anyway. Were men all that stupid? Would she have known what was to happen, she never would have asked Roger to help him. It was simply not worth it to her.

Seeing that Holly had nothing to respond, Roger closed his suitcase and went for the door. He hated to leave his wife in this way, but it was clear to him that she would never give him her blessing. Panic rising in her throat, Holly sprang to the door and stood in front of Roger. There was one last thing that she had to attempt. She might be sorry for it later, but it was her last resort.

"Roger, there is something that I have to tell you before you go."

"I'm not changing my mind, Holly, please-"

"Just hear me out, will you?" she said, interrupting him.

They both stood facing each other. Holly took a deep breath before she began. "Do you remember, in Marrakesh, when I told you that I was unfaithful to Dietrich?"

"Yes."

"There is something else that I didn't tell you."

Roger blinked, suddenly fearing the worse. "What?"

Holly ran a hand over her eyes and shook her head. "I never cheated on you Roger, and it is really important that you believe that I never will."

"Stop playing with me, Holly, and just say what you have to say."

"The man that I slept with that night was Paul."

Roger stared at her for a few seconds, as if dumbstruck, and then walked straight to the window, turning his back to her. "Fuck," he said under his breath but still loud enough for her to hear. She winced; it was not a word that Roger used lightly.

"I never saw him since, I swear."

"I thought you said you never saw him at all after your engagement was broken!"

Holly blushed and hid her face. "I know, but you sounded jealous when we first talked about him, so I didn't see the point in telling you. It meant nothing to me, you have to believe that. We ran into each other that night in Geneva; I was lonely, he was there, end of story."

"Why are you telling me this then? To make me suffer? What are you trying to accomplish?" Roger retorted acerbically.

Holly walked up to him and tried to take his hands in hers but he wouldn't let her. "I am telling you because I could not let you put your life on the line for him not knowing this. I want to give you the chance to change your mind. You don't owe him anything, Roger. For all I know, if the roles were reversed, he might let you die. I am begging you, Roger. Please, stay with me," Holly pleaded, tears starting to run down her face.

"I thought you wanted me to save him." Roger said coldly.

"I wanted someone to save him; I never meant for it to be you. If it comes down to his life versus yours, then there is no question that you are the one that I want safe and sound."

Roger walked past her and picked his bag. "It doesn't matter anyway; I'm not doing this for him, I'm doing this for Jack."

"Don't go," she pleaded; her voice barely more audible than a whisper.

"I can't stay." He turned away and left without looking back.

Holly slumped on the floor. She had gambled and lost.

* * *

She could not have told how much time had passed when she finally heard a light tap on the door. She got up and slowly walked to the door, knowing it would not be Roger coming back. She was met by a younger version of herself, anxiety spread all over her features.

"Mom! You were supposed to get me at the airport an hour ago!" Blake said as she pushed her way in.

"Blake…" Holly replied with a twinge of guilt. She had forgotten about her daughter in the commotion. How would she explain Roger's absence to her?

"I checked into my room already. Where's Dad?" Blake asked before turning to face her mother. It did not take her long to take in the fact that Holly had been crying. She walked to her and led her to the bed.

"Where's is Roger?" she asked once again.

Holly only had to gaze into her daughter's eyes to burst into tears. She had imagined for one second that she could hide the truth from her daughter, but she could see now that it was foolish of her. Between sobs, she recounted the story of Paul's disappearance and of Jack's involvement, while Blake listened in bewilderment. The only part she chose to omit was the fact that she had slept with Paul one last time, ten years ago. Telling Roger had been enough of a mistake already.

"So Dad has gone to Russia?" Blake finally asked, as if she could not believe it.

"He sure did, that stubborn son of a…I know he's your father, Blake, but right now, I hate him for doing this to us."

"Well," Blake started to say something, but stopped when she saw the daggers in her mother's eyes.

"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that you actually agree with him?"

Blake tipped her head on one side, obviously searching for words that would not incense her mother any further. "I can relate to what he must be feeling right now. Dad is a courageous man, and fiercely loyal to the ones he loves. I'm not teaching you anything here; you married the man."

Holly only nodded.

"Don't you like those qualities in him?"

Holly rolled her eyes in frustration, knowing her daughter had a point, but still refusing to concede defeat. "You're the wrong person to be discussing this with, because you're so very much like him. It's all a big adventure to you, but Blake, let me remind you this; Roger has a family. He has you, and he has Jessica, and he's supposed to take care of you."

Blake looked at her mother with a new light in her eyes. "We're not kids anymore, Mom, but you're right; Roger does have a family that loves him, and it's up to us to make sure that he's alright."

Holly shook her head in dismay. She suddenly felt like history was repeating itself. "You're not going after him, Blake."

The young woman cocked her head and replied in a defiant tone. "I sure am, and you're coming with me."


	13. Meet Anna

**Outside of Moscow, 24 hours later**

Panting, Roger stood at the top of steep wooded hill. He had been climbing for almost half-an-hour to get to this vantage point. The blue sky stretched before his eyes and a green valley lay below; nestled at the bottom was Alexandrov's mansion. Hidden by the thick forest, the house could not be seen from the road but was plainly visible to Roger.

He took off his backpack and kneeled to retrieve his binoculars, then proceeded to examine the area. The grey stone house was vast and L-shaped; Roger reckoned that it had at least three stories, excluding the basement. It was connected to the main road by a thin cobbled lane. Behind the house, in the space formed by the connection of the two wings, there was a gravel courtyard. At the far end stood a garage and next to it, a hot house and a vegetable patch. Beyond were a wide lawn and the gardens.

Even from the distance, Roger could see that the house was bustling with unusual activity. Several cars and vans were parked in front, from which men were busy unloading sacks of ice, quarters of beef, whole birds and pigs, and cases of oysters, wine and vodka. In the back, servants were gathering roses and other flowers from the hot house, while others were picking apples, pears and prunes from the trees.

There is going to be a big party soon, Roger thought. And I fully intend to crash it.

He was about to put his binoculars down when the sight of a blond woman exiting the house arrested him. Tall and slender, she was dressed with a strict business suit and looked like the perfect secretary. Only Roger knew that she was nothing but. He smiled and hastily put his backpack on while she entered a black sedan, and then he began to run at full speed toward the lane. His luck was turning.

* * *

He got to the road just in time to jump in front of the woman's car, forcing her to slam on the brakes. Roger lost no time in getting in the passenger seat and ordered her to drive on. She refused to do so at first, her expression turning from surprise to amazement and then, finally, to relief.

"Jesus, Roger, you scared the shit out of me!"

"Hey, Anna, long time no see."

He shot a glance at her while she started driving. She was still as lovely as when he had first met her years ago, with her golden blond hair and her full lips. Her high cheekbones and her slanted green eyes, set wide apart, revealed her Slavic origins, yet her English was perfect. Roger knew that it was because she had been born and raised in the north of London from a Russian mother and a very British father. Following in his footsteps, Anna Rayburn had grown to become one of the finest agents of the British Secret Intelligent Service, commonly known as the MI6. Roger had met her during a mission in which their two countries were involved, and had soon discovered the extent of her skills on the field – as well as in bed. Their affair had been intense but short-lived, like everything in Roger's life during those years, but he always remembered her fondly.

"So, what are you up to?" Anna finally inquired after she had sped off the property.

"Before I answer that, are you still with the MI6?"

"Yes, but it's all that I can tell you."

Roger's heart lifted. He knew that he could trust her. "I'm looking for a way to get to the American and the Frenchman that are being kept somewhere in that house. Have you been in touch with them?"

A strange expression came into Anna's eyes before she replied. "I spoke with Paul Ardant several times, yes. They keep him in a cell in the basement when he's not working on his project. Needless to say, he doesn't know my true identity; he thinks that I'm Vasiliev personal secretary."

Roger scoffed. "And I bet that Vasiliev thinks that too. God, you're good!"

Anna acknowledged the compliment only by nodding.

"Have you seen the other one, the American?" Roger asked, half-dreading the answer.

"I saw a Russian, but no American."

"What did he look like?"

"Tall, dark, handsome."

"That looks like Jack alright."

"You mean he really is American? I could have sworn…"

Roger sighed in relief. If Jack had been able to fool Anna, chances were he had succeeded in fooling everybody else. "So, you did see him."

"Just for a few seconds, they were bringing him the house as I was passing in the hall. He didn't look too good, Roger, but he was breathing."

Roger clenched his fists, anger rising inside of me. "Do you know where they might be keeping him?"

"In the basement for sure, it's the only place that's secure."

They drove in silence for a few minutes while Roger reflected on his next move. "Listen, Anna, I'll level with you. That American guy is an ex-agent, and a close friend of mine. He came here to get Paul out and he got caught. If the Russians find out who he is, they'll kill him for sure. Hell, they'll kill him anyway! I have to get him out of here tonight, and Paul too if I can manage it. Will you help me?"

He waited for her answer while she stared at the road for a few seconds. "How come you know two know about Paul anyway?" she finally inquired.

"Paul is an old friend of my wife, and when she heard that he had disappeared, she asked me to make inquiries. Then, Jack, my friend, decided to come and see for himself, just for the kick of it. Reckless, I know. Anyway, you know the rest."

They arrived at a crossroad. Anna made a right turn and parked a few feet later at a deserted gas station. She took out documents from under her seat, got up and, after making sure she had not been followed, dropped them in a hidden compartment in one of the gas pump. "For my assignment, she explained as she came back into the car.

Instead of turning it on again, she sat more comfortably and looked at Roger. "I will help you, Roger. In fact, we'll help each other. If you must know, I had planned on helping Paul escape myself, and tomorrow is the night. He doesn't even know himself. It's going to be a lot trickier with Jack, since he appears to be in a bad shape, but I think we can manage it. We'll take advantage of the big bash they're planning and whisk them out of there."

Roger gratefully squeezed her forearm. Her help was heaven sent. "Won't this get in the way of your assignment, though? I don't want you to jeopardize your life over this."

Anna let out a mirthless laugh. "My life is always in danger, Roger; surely you remember what its like." She ran a hand through her hair. "And yes, it might get in the way of my mission, that's why I've waited so long before I decided to make a move. It's just that..." Her voice trailed off and the same sad look came into her eyes again.

"What?"

"Paul is a great guy, really. I've gotten to know him in the last few months, because we've been working on the condo project together. I'd hate to see something bad happen to him, and I know something will if he stays here much longer."

Roger raised an eyebrow and he looked more closely to her face. "Wow. You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Anna blushed and hid her face in her hands. "I don't know what this is! This never happened to me before. All these feelings come rushing in every time I look at him. I just know for certain that I can't let him die. I don't care if I never see him again, and I don't care if he goes back to that Holly -"

Roger almost jumped in his seat at the mention of his wife's name. "How...?" he began to ask, before the answer dawned on him. "You're the one who sent that letter for him."

Now it was Anna's turn to be dumbfounded. "How do you know about that?"

"Holly is my wife."

Anna stared at him for almost a minute, uncomprehending. Then the ramifications of the news finally dawned on her and her expression went from astonishment to hope. There might be a chance for her to win Paul over after all. "She's married," she finally murmured.

"Yes, to me."

"He doesn't know that."

Roger almost snarled. "He sure as hell will find out as soon as I meet him."

Anna turned the key into the ignition, still shaking her head in disbelief. "We've got to get this plan ready and air-tight before tonight. There is a small cottage that was recently abandoned not to far from the mansion and I turned it into my secret office. We'll go there."

As they drove back, their conversation replayed in Roger's mind. "Why would help him send a love letter to my wife when you're in love with him yourself?" he asked after a few minutes.

Anna looked embarrassed. "This was months ago. Back then, I thought he was cute, but I didn't have any real feelings for him yet. He looked so miserable; I didn't have the heart to refuse him. I played the part of the good but strict censor, and he bought it."

"Still, it's not like you to be so soft," Roger said teasingly.

"It's not like me to be in love either, but there you have it."

"I knew you had a heart somewhere in there!"

Anna glanced at Roger. "And it's already broken. That wife of yours must be something special, because he won't shut up about her."

Roger's heart sank as he recalled his fight with Holly. "She is."

* * *

**Springfield, a few hours later**

Ethan paced nervously backstage, waiting for the rest of his band to show. He was too early, he knew, but he could already hear voices on the other side of the thick velvet curtain. The Hammers' show was sold out.

He thought about Jessica, who should have been back to Springfield earlier that evening, and frowned. He hadn't heard from her, and hoped it was because her flight had been delayed. He then forced his mind to turn back to present moment, and mentally went through the songs from his first set.

"It's going to be fine," he heard a soft voice say behind him. He turned to find Erika, clad in black, as usual. Her sequin leggings were partly hidden by an oversized silk T-Shirt, sporting the legendary Rolling Stones lips in bright red sequins. He smiled at the sight of her. She had been a lifesaver in the last few days, preventing him from torturing himself about what Jessica might have to say to him. "You'll get there when you get there," she kept repeating. "No use thinking about it now."

Nate and David followed behind, dropping their instruments on the floor and stretching their sore shoulders. They had been carrying equipment all afternoon. "It looks like it's going to be a full house tonight!" Nate said excitedly.

"Bet your mom is going to be there," Ethan bantered, excitement getting to him as well.

David parted the curtains and took a quick look on the other side. "Bridget is here, and Cat of course, and Julie and Gilly. Oh, and I see Beth, Philip and Alan-Michael, and there is Dylan and Samantha. She's going to have to take off that red hat if she wants the people behind her to see something."

Ethan's brows knitted together at the mention of Dylan. Blake had filled him on the fact that the two of them were taking a break in their relationship, partly because of Sam. It looked like his sister might have made a wise decision after all.

* * *

On the other side of the curtain, the crowd was gathering, ordering drinks and chatting animatedly. Jessica stood by the entrance, looking inside nervously. She had been back for a few hours and, although she would not have missed the show for anything in the world, she thought it might be best to wait until after to let her presence be known to her boyfriend. The last thing that he needed was to be distracted from performing. She pulled her blond hair into a tight bun and put on a red hat she had bought at the airport. That should do the trick, she thought as she made her way through the crowd.

After a few minutes, the lights went down and the crowd started cheering loudly. The doorman was about to close the doors when a man slipped inside, handing him his ticket. With his bushy beard, his thick glasses and his buck teeth, he was aware that he bordered on the ridiculous. He nervously pushed back his glasses, which were slipping down his sweaty nose, and looked around, staring into the faces of every brunette that crossed his path.

"Where are you, Sam?" he muttered, feeling for his gun in his pocket.

* * *

_A quick note: I decided to change the rating of this story to "M". I feel that some upcoming scenes makes it necessary, so look for the story from now on in the M material. Most likely I will be taking a smal break during the holidays. So Happy Holidays to all, and hopefully you'll be there with me in January to pick this story where we left off._


	14. The Show Must Go On

**Alexandrov's Mansion, Russia**

Jack lifted himself up on his cot and inspected his left shoulder. The bullet was still lodged deep into his triceps and, from the way his arm dangled limply by his side, had also shattered his bone. He felt sweaty, dizzy and feverish, and found it increasingly hard to keep his focus. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He had placed his fate in the hands of the wrong person, and now he had to find a way to get out of this mess.

He looked towards the row of bars keeping the entrance of his cell. The corridor beyond was dimly lit and silent. He then glanced at his watch; if it was anything like the day before, there would be a change of guards in a few minutes. He got up and walked up to the door as quietly as he could, and then he waited.

As he had hoped, the man guarding the entrance of the basement unlocked the door behind him soon after, and went up the stairs. There was no time to lose, for Jack knew that the new guard would be down in less than five minutes, maybe less.

"Paul!" he whispered as loudly as he dared toward the cell across the corridor.

There was a noise of sheets being rumpled before a tall man appeared at the door. There were deep shadows under his eyes, which were wide and of a golden brown. His chestnut hair were unkempt and his clothes creased; still, there was a feeling of quiet strength about him which made Jack sigh in relief. This was not the look of a man who had given up.

"We have about two minutes, so listen carefully," he added.

Paul raised a eyebrow in surprise. "Wait a minute, you speak English? I thought you were Russian. Who are you?"

"Never mind that for now. I came to get you out of here, only it didn't work too great, as you can see. I reckon they will get rid of me in the following hours if I don't get out, so I need to know if you have anyone in here that you can trust. Anyone at all who might be willing to get us out of here."

Paul shook his head, still under shock. "No, or else I'd be out already. The guards won't be bribed. I tried that a few weeks ago and got a beating I'll never forget," he replied, showing up a scar on his right cheek.

"Damn!"

"Unless…" Paul stopped abruptly, apparently thinking it better to leave his sentence unfinished.

"What? Anything would help at this point."

"I do have a friend in here, if you can call it that. She's the personal secretary to Vasiliev. She could get us out of here if she wanted to."

"Can she be trusted?"

Paul grabbed the bars in front of him and looked intently into Jack's eyes. "I honestly don't know, but if not, then we're both as good as dead."

"Does she come down here often?"

"Never. I only see her when they take me out to the construction site."

Jack's heart sank. They would need to get that woman in the basement, but how? Before he could ask anymore questions, there was a noise at the top of the stairs, which made him retreat hurriedly in the darkness of his cell.

"Wait!" Paul called out. "Please just tell me who sent you? Was it Thierry?"

Jack hesitated before answering.

"It was Holly," he finally said.

Paul's face suddenly came alive, as if lit from within. The arrival of the guard prevented them from saying more, and Jack went silently back to his cot, his mind racing. Roger had told him that Paul was an old friend of his wife, but he suspected from the tension in his best friend's voice that there was something more to this story. And now, the unmistakable expression of adoration in Paul's face at the mention of Holly proved him right.

Maybe he should have said something about Roger, Jack thought. Then again, Paul would need all of his energy and will to get out of there alive. This was no time to bring him down.

* * *

Meanwhile, a mile away from the mansion, Anna and Roger were sitting at the kitchen table of Anna's secret office, going over their rescue plan. They had been pondering over it for the last two hours, bouncing ideas and playing them out in their head, as if writing an action movie. Only this was really happening, and the main characters were people they loved.

"Let's take a break; I'll make coffee," Anna said before getting up and going to the cupboard.

Roger nodded and stretched. He felt adrenaline running wild in his veins, a feeling he had all but forgotten over the years. He then looked around at the abandoned cottage that Anna had made her own, and wondered at her cleverness once again. No one could have guessed that the floor, the walls and the furniture hid so many devices.

"You know that if we go trough with this, you won't be able to see your mission for the British government to the end, right?" he said after a while, taking the fuming cup she was handing him.

Anna sat down and rubbed her hands over her face. "Believe me, I know. This thing is going to cost me my career."

They both drank their coffee in silence for a few minutes.

"I want to thank you for doing this, in any case," Roger finally added.

Anna nodded with a sad smile. "I'm pretty confident that we will get them out alive, but we'll have to have luck on our side in order to succeed. I wish we had more people to help us, a real team, you know?"

"I wish that too, but let's face it, Jack and Paul mean nothing to the CIA or the MI6, and apparently nothing to French Intelligence services either. It's up to us to save them."

Without warning, Anna welled up and burst into tears. "I don't know what I'll do if Paul dies," she said trough her sobs. She got up and walked away from the table, ashamed of this sudden outburst but unable to control herself. After hesitating, Roger followed her and took her in his arms.

"Hey, he's not going to die," he said, stroking her hair." You're the best agent that I know, and I'm not that bad either, apparently."

He took her face in his hands and searched for her gaze. "Give me a smile, right now. Yes, that's more like it," he said as Anna finally managed to laugh trough her tears. They were so engrossed in the moment that they never heard the footsteps approaching the cottage, nor the knock on the front door. It wasn't before Roger heard a loud gasp that he finally turned around, and came face to face with his wife and daughter, who both stood by the entrance, as if rooted to the spot.

For what seemed like an eternity, the four of them stood still. Then Roger noticed the deep frown on Blake's face and he hurriedly let go of Anna. "What are you two doing here?" he asked, still in shock.

"We came to help you. What are YOU doing here?" Blake replied curtly, while glancing in Anna's direction.

"No, you first. How did you find me? And why did you come? Don't you know how dangerous this is?" Roger said, panic rising inside of him.

"Yes, we know. That's why we came to give you a hand. I can see that you're afraid for us, Dad. We feel that fear too, for you."

Roger raised his hand to interrupted her. "You two are going back to Finland right now. You are not professionals, and you'll get hurt. I can't risk that," he said in a determined voice.

Holly, who had remained silent up to then, stepped forward. Her eyes were smoldering, but when she spoke, her voice was as cold as ice. "You can't order us around, Roger; this is not how a family works. And for the record, Blake and I might not be professionals, but we sure as hell found you easily enough."

"How?"

"O'Hara gave us the address of the mansion, remember? All we had to do was to get to the next village and to make inquiries about any hotels or inns that might be in the vicinity. But then I figured that you might prefer something more private, so Blake and I have been driving around the area all afternoon and came across this place. We came in to ask for directions and we saw you trough the window. It was almost too easy, really."

They all turned to Anna as they heard her slap her head. There was an elaborate alarm system surrounding the cottage, but in her distraught state, she had forgotten to turn it on. This was the first blunder of this magnitude that she had ever done, and she hated herself for it. She and Roger glanced at each other; this was the kind of mistake that could cost an agent his or her life.

Holly took another step in Roger's direction, still bearing her menacing look. "So, as I said, you can't make us leave. However, if you don't tell me in the next second who this person is," she said, pointing at Anna, "and why she was in your arms, I'm out the door."

Roger winced; it was not his place to reveal Anna's true identity, but he could not let Holly get away either. Fortunately, Anna came to his rescue and extended her hand to Holly. "Hello, you must be Holly. I'm Anna." She hesitated a little before taking the plunge. "I'm a secret agent for the MI6, and the only reason that I'm telling you this is because I'll probably be out of a job in a few days."

Holly stared at the blond woman facing her, taking in each and every one of her exquisite features. "And you know Roger… how?"

"We worked together on a mission many years ago. I never thought that I would see him again, but faith brought us back together this very afternoon, and we discovered that we're working towards the same goal. I want to save Paul too," she finally said bluntly.

At the mention of Paul's name, Holly's eyes widened in surprise. "You know Paul?"

"Yes," Anna simply. And I love him, but he loves you, she added to herself. "Look, there are a lot of things that I can't discuss, but I work for the Russian people who are keeping Paul locked up, or at least they think that I work for them. I've decided to get him out, and with Roger's help, we'll rescue your other friend as well."

"How?" Blake said, fear and excitement battling in her heart.

"There is a party at the mansion, tomorrow night. We have a plan, but we might need extra help," Anna said, looking at Roger for his approval.

He only shook his head vehemently. "No! I don't want them anywhere near that mansion!"

"That's not for you to decide, Roger!" Holly thundered. "You left me no choice when you ran away last night." They stared at each other as they silently recalled their fight.

Anna stepped in to end to uncomfortable silence. "Roger," she said softly, "our plan is too risky and you know it. We need more help, and with Holly and Blake, I might be able to finish my assignment after all. That means that Alexandrov and Vasiliev would be out of the way for good. These guys are not just small time crooks, Roger, it's much bigger than that."

Roger sighed and clenched his fists in frustration. He knew Holly enough to know that her mind was made up, but Blake…

He went to his daughter and took her in his arms. "Do you realize what will happen to you if you get caught?"

Blake nodded, but the truth was that she had no idea and she did not want to know. Some would called her behaviour courageous, others reckless. In any case, and just like her father, she was not about to shy away from an adventure.

"Alright, then. Let review this plan once again," Roger said, sitting back at the table while Anna fetched two more cups of coffee. Holly watched her before sitting next to Roger. This conversation is not over, she mouthed to her husband.

* * *

**Springfield**

After their second encore, The Hammers stumbled backstage, riding on a wave of euphoria. They had played perfectly and the show had went even better than they had hoped for. They all group-hugged before Nate and David rushed on the other side to meet their friends in the audience, leaving Erika and Ethan alone.

"Isn't it the greatest feeling?" Erika said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Beats everything I know!" Ethan exclaimed. The rush of performing was still making him dizzy and he felt like shouting from the rooftop. "You were great!" he added, grabbing her by the waist and making her twirl.

He was happy. Jessica had not shown up for his first real show, but he refused to let it ruin this perfect moment. He put Erika down and took her hands in his. "I want to thank you, Erika, for everything that you did for me in the last few weeks, and I'm not just referring to the band."

Erika colored slightly and shook her head dismissively. "Don't thank me, I was helping myself. I really needed the distraction after my break-up, and you guys gave me that. I should be thanking you!"

"Let's thank each other, then," Ethan replied. As he looked into her lovely face, all the emotions from the evening came rushing to his head, begging for release. Before he knew it, he had cradled her face in his hands and was kissing her.

He never saw Jessica standing by the door, looking as if she had been turned to stone.

She had rushed backstage right after the show, ready to jump into his arms. Seeing him had brought back all the reasons why she had fallen in love with him, and had scared away all the doubts. And now, as she saw him holding another girl in his arms, she felt her heart break to pieces.

She stood on the threshold of the dressing room, torn between the desire to run away or to confront him. Oblivious to her surroundings, she did not hear the man creep behind her. She was about to turn on her heels when he grabbed her roughly by the waist, shoving a hand into her mouth to prevent her from screaming. Then all went very fast, as the man yanked and pulled her down the corridor up to an emergency exit.

She writhed in his arms and tried to twist her body around so that she could see her aggressor, but her hat prevented her from getting a good look at his face. The man dragged her across the deserted back street behind the venue, and finally pushed her into a car trunk, which he slammed shut before her screams could be heard.

* * *

Daniel grabbed the wheel of his car and speeded out of the back street, feeling exhilarated. He had succeeded, he had found Samantha and now they would be together forever. It had been much easier than he had expected to located her in the crowd, thanks to her conspicuous red hat. Must be faith, he thought with a smile as he raced towards the highway.

He had lost sight of her right before the end of the show, but then had spotted her again at the end of the corridor leading backstage. Her back was turned and her beautiful brown hair tucked away, but the red hat had given her away. Not that she was trying to hide from him, Daniel thought with a shake of the head. She loved him.

Something had felt odd as he was dragging her to the car, however. He had immediately noticed how lighter she felt in his arms. She would have to take better care of herself from now on, and he would gladly see to that.


	15. The Odds Are Against Us

**Anna's cottage/secret office, Russia**

It wasn't until later that night that Holly and Roger were finally by themselves. Anna was back at the mansion and Blake was already soundly asleep on the living room couch. While their daughter had been awake, they had succeeded in hiding the tension between them, and Blake had been too excited about their reunion and their upcoming adventure to notice anything.

The couple now silently moved to the bedroom, where they only kept a bedside lamp turned on. "We should probably take turns sleeping, just in case," Roger said, looking at his wife. He knew that the storm that was building up inside of her was about to unleash, yet he still hoped that he could calm her down before she exploded.

"You slept with that woman," was all that she replied as she started to take off her shoes.

Here we go, Roger thought. "Not recently," he finally offered.

"And to believe that you made me feel guilty about not telling you about my affair with Paul!" Holly then said in a low but irate voice, facing him and viciously poking him in the sternum.

Roger took a step back. "This is now the same situation!"

"You're right, this is much worse! How long have you two been lovers? Weeks, years? And don't tell me that you didn't know that she'd be here, because I just won't buy it!"

"Come on, Hol! I swear on my daughters' heads that this is just a pure coincidence. I hadn't spoken with Anna in years. I promise!"

"And you have no feelings, no desire for her? She's a freaking amazon!"

Roger made a weak attempt at humour. "Everyone knows that leggy blonds aren't my type."

Holly only shot him a disgusted look and turned away. "There's nothing between us, Holly. I love you, and if you must know, she's in love with Paul."

As he had anticipated, Holly turned on her heals at the mention of the Frenchman. "Is she?" she asked. Roger tried to read her expression, looking in spite of himself for traces of jealousy, but her face remained imperturbable. He slowly nodded.

Holly shrugged. "Even if all of this is true, you're still full of it. You made me feel rotten inside for weeks about a relationship that had nothing to do with you, that was long gone before you even came back into my life. And now that I find out that you're in the same position, all should be forgiven, no questions asked?"

"I'm sorry."

Holly sat on the bed and turned off the light. "Well, sorry just doesn't cut it, okay? Please go sleep in the living room, Roger. I want to be alone."

* * *

**Springfield, Unknown location**

"Who the hell are you?" Daniel said as he stared at Jessica, who stared back at him, her eyes wide with terror. She was still cramped in the trunk, but her golden blond hair was now clearly visible for Daniel to see.

"What did you do with Samantha?" he asked again, waving his gun inches from her face, making her moan in fear. She shifted and uncovered the red had that had fallen from her head during the way, making Daniel inhale sharply. He had never seen the girl's actual face as he dragged her to his car. It had never been Sam; he had gotten the wrong woman. How could he be so stupid! His first impulse was to drag her out of the trunk, to threaten her as best as he could if she ever went to the police, and to speed off, but he soon thought better of it. She had seen his face, and she would see his licence plate. Her fate was sealed.

He motioned her out of the car. "If you scream, I'll kill you." Jessica complied quickly, her whole body shaking. Daniel then roughly pushed her so that she would start walking in front of him. She discreetly looked around, but the backstreet where they had stopped was deserted, and she could not recognize her surroundings. She guessed that they must be well outside of Springfield, given how long she had been trapped in the trunk. They presently arrived at a windowless backdoor, giving entrance to a large and sinister-looking building. Jessica noticed that several identical doors were also aligned on the same wall.

Daniel took a key from his pockets, unlocked the door and shoved the young woman inside. Before she could make any kind of move, he grabbed her in the darkness and tied her to a chair, and then he closed the door behind them and turned on the light. Jessica blinked, blinded by the crude light coming from the naked bulb on the ceiling, while Daniel moved to a table at the far end of the small square room.

He sat down and slowly took off his whole disguise, piece by piece, trying to think of the best way to get rid of the girl, while Jessica stared at him. She had never seen him in her entire life; surely this was a mistake, she thought frantically. Her thoughts turned briefly to Ethan, and tears of rage and panic started streaming down her cheeks. Would he even notice that she was missing that night, or would she have to wait until morning for that unfaithful asshole to realize that she had never made it home? Would it be too late by then? Would she ever see him again? She looked around her, hoping against hope to locate something that could help her untie herself, but except for the table and the chair, the room was empty.

Well, almost empty. There were also the pictures.

Jessica craned her neck to take a better look at the few shots glued to the wall. They were all portraits of the same brunette; a brunette that Jessica could have sworn looked familiar. She searched her memory until it hit her. The girl was Samantha Marler. She had never met her, but Ethan had shown her pictures of his friend on numerous occasions. Then her heart sank. If that girl was Sam…

There was now no doubt in her mind that the man standing beside her was Daniel St. John, and from what Ethan had told her on the phone in the last few weeks, he had become totally unhinged.

* * *

**Anna's cottage/secret office, Russia**

"Let's review this one more time, shall we?" Anna said to the others the next morning, putting a big leather satchel on the kitchen table. She was just back from the mansion, where she had spent the night and been busy evening out the last bumps in the preparation of Vasiliev and Alexandrov's big bash.

They all silently went to the living room, where the curtains were drawn. Blake and Holly sat on the couch, whereas Anna and Roger each settled in an armchair. Tension was palpable as Anna fished her notes out of her purse and spread them on the coffee table next to them.

"As we decided last night, and as far as anyone knows, you'll be part of the extra staff hired for tonight's reception. I have your uniforms with me," Anna added before taking clothes out of the satchel she had also brought with her.

"The reception starts at 6PM sharp. Roger, here's is your valet uniform. You need to meet the others at the entrance of the mansion a quarter of an hour before it starts."

She was about to continue when Blake interrupted her. "I was wondering about our supposed jobs last night. Won't people ask questions about us? I thought that in a place like this, they would be screening every person who comes into the house."

Anna smiled briefly. "They do, and I'm the one in charge of the hiring and screening, so that takes care of that."

Blake nodded, relieved.

"So, Roger, if anyone asks, your name is Leon Cepak and you are a Polish immigrant trying to make ends meet. Since you can speak a little Russian and there is no other Polish on staff, you should be fine. People will have no time for chitchat anyway. Do you have any questions about what you need to do tonight?" Anna asked.

Roger grabbed the plan of the mansion and perused it thoughtfully. "I don't think so. As soon as I'm done parking the cars of the guests, I'll head to the garage and switch the license plate from your car with the one from Vasiliev's car. Did you bring the screwdriver?"

"It's in the bag. I'm counting on the fact that Vasiliev will not need his car after the reception, so it will be a while before he notices the switch, if he ever does at all. Hopefully, we'll be long gone by then."

With his index, Roger traced a line on the map, going from the garage to the left side of the house. "Then I get your car and wait for you at this exit."

"Exactly, and I hope that you're still the reckless driver that you were a few years ago. I will be there between 10 and 10:15PM. Alexandrov is scheduled to be giving a speech at 10, so all of the guests should be in the dining room during that time. This is our safest window to get Paul and Jack out of the house."

She turned to Holly. "Holly, are you still up for your part?"

Holly met her gaze calmly, while next to her, Roger unconsciously shifted in his chair. "Absolutely."

"Excellent. I already told them that you were French and spoke no Russian, but that you were the best photographer for these kind of discreet events. Your name will be Adèle Foissy. They should leave you alone, but still, make yourself small and make sure that you get clear pictures of at least these three people. They have to be standing next to either Vasiliev or Alexandrov's when you photograph them," Anna said, pointing at the portraits of two middle-aged men and an older woman lying on the table.

"I don't know why Holly has to do this; it won't help us with the escape at all," Roger exclaimed, his nerves finally getting the best of him.

Anna raised her hands in an attempt to calm him down. "We've been over this, Roger. Now that we have two more pairs of hands to help us, I can try and finish my assignment, and for that I need definite proof of Vasiliev and Alexandrov's involvement with certain key individuals. Tonight is the perfect opportunity to get that proof; it's why I've been sent to Russia in the first place."

"But this is my wife's life we are putting on the line here!" Roger exclaimed.

Holly put a hand on his arm and gave him a stern look. "Roger, the best way to ensure that they won't come after us next week, or next year, is to have them put away for good. This is a risk that I'm willing to take, just as you were willing to come here. Besides, it will give me a chance to practice my French, I'm a little rusty," she said nonchalantly.

"Yes, in preparation for your big reunion with Paul," Roger could not help but mumble bitterly. Holly shot him a black look and turned her attention back to Anna, who had not lost a word of their exchange. She sighed inwardly. A lovers spat, really? They had better get along on the field, or else it could endanger them all.

She took a sip of water, and then turned to Blake. "Now let's discuss the escape, proper. I know, Roger that you wanted to keep Blake out of the action as much as possible, but she has to be the one to do this. They specifically requested the staff in the dining room to be female, and pretty. I think Blake fits the bill nicely enough."

"What about Holly? Couldn't she do it?" Roger asked, grasping at straws to keep his daughter out of danger.

"I'm too old," Holly answered matter-of-factly, even though she was none too pleased either to send Blake right in the lion's den.

Anna gave Holly an apologetic look. "No offense, but you're right. Blake will probably be the oldest girl on staff tonight. These guys are pigs, but I guess this comes as no surprise to you all."

"I can defend myself if it comes to that," Blake said with a brave face.

Holly and Roger winced and gazed at each other.

"It won't, because I'll be with you every time you come into the room," Anna retorted in a sure voice. "You'll be in charge of pouring the vodka, so if they address you, that's what they'll be asking for. Whatever you do, don't talk. They mustn't know that you're American. At 10PM, you'll leave the dining room with one of the trolleys we use to carry the bottles and wait for me in the main hall. I'll be right behind you. I told the pigs last week, when I was planning the escape alone, that I would have to leave the party to go to Moscow for a late night meeting with a provider for the condos, and that I would only be back tomorrow in the late afternoon. From the dining room, we'll take the corridor to the main hall, and from the hall, another hallway leads to the basement. The secret door to the basement is on the left side, after the portrait of Tolstoy. This is the only way in or out," Anna said, pointing at the map. "I'll go down first, because the guard knows me. I'll distract him while you come up behind him and give it to him real hard," she added, grabbing a Taser gun from the bag and giving it to Blake.

Blake took the gun and inspected it carefully. "Then you grab the keys from the guard and unlock the cells," she said. "Paul and Jack will have to find a way to cram under the tablecloth covering the trolley; I just pray to God that Jack is able to move. From there, we only have to go back to the main hall and back into the same passage leading to the dining room, except that we have to continue until the end, to the exit where Roger will be waiting for us with the car. You two will pack the guys up while I go back to meet Holly in the main hall at 10:15. We'll go to Vasiliev's office to get pictures of as much documents as we can, but only if all else goes well. The change of guard will be at midnight, which leaves us little time to put some distance between us and that place."

Roger got up and started pacing across the living room. "So, at midnight, they sound the alarm and start giving chase, as drunk as they may be. Only they won't start suspecting that you're the one behind this until late tomorrow, because they'll think that you're in Moscow," he said to Anna.

"And by the time they figure it out, we should be in Finland anyway," Holly added.

"Yes, and they won't be able to trace us with our license plate either, should they try that."

"What about our passports?" Blake asked.

Anna frowned, a cloud passing over her eyes. "We'll have to use our own, but as far as we're concerned, it doesn't make any difference because they don't know our true identity. I had time to obtain a falsified one for Paul, but not for Jack. Even if I could get my hands one the one they found on him when they captured him, it would be useless anyway."

"Maybe he could tell us where he kept his real one," Blake suggested, but Roger and Anna both shook their heads.

"It's safe in Montana, you can bet on that. So, what do we do?" Roger said.

"We'll have to hide him in the trunk and hope for the best when we get through customs. If the Finns ever search our car, I'll have to get them to call the MI6 to clear us." Anna said.

"So they should let us pass if it ever comes to that?" Blake asked.

"Yes, but it will likely delay us for several hours, and we don't have that kind of time."

They all looked at each other for a few seconds. This plan was full of flaws, but here they were, jumping in with their eyes wide open.


	16. Enters Harley

**Springfield**

While Roger, Holly and Blake were anxiously awaiting their first Russian mafia party, it was still early morning in Springfield. At the Bauer's residence, Ethan woke up in his bed, fully dressed, with a start and a throbbing head. His first impulse was to look to the space beside him on the bed, only to realize that it was empty.

He lay down again with a mix of relief and worry. At least he hadn't brought Erika home, he thought as he reached for the glass of water on his nightstand.

"God, what a fool I've been," he muttered.

As soon as their lips had parted, Erika and he had known that the kiss had been a mistake. They were both in love with other people, even if things were not going well for either of them. Ethan probed his own heart, trying to understand why he had let it happen. Maybe it was simply because he wanted to share his euphoria with someone who felt the same. The show had left him with a sense of elation that turned his head. Or maybe, he had to admit, a part of him wanted to get back at Jessica. Back at her for not showing up, back at her for taking her distances.

He stood up and shook his head. Whatever his motive, he would not let it happen again. Not only because he had been unfaithful, but because the last thing he wanted was to jeopardize the harmony within the band. He would have to deal with that later. Right now, he had to figure out why Jessica had not showed up at the show the night before, and why she hadn't joined him at his house later on.

He put on a pair of jeans lying on the floor and picked up the phone. When there was no answer at Holly's house, he called the airport to inquire if her flight had been delayed. It had not. Could she be avoiding him? Before he could make any more calls, David phoned in to see if he was ready to pick up their music equipment at the bar. Cursing under his breath, Ethan grabbed a T-shirt and his car keys before heading downstairs.

* * *

"I can help you get Sam back," Jessica said, looking intently in Daniel's eyes to see his reaction.

She had anticipated surprise and was not sorry; Daniel turned abruptly toward her after hearing her words, his face the embodiment of surprise. He had been silent since he had brought her to wherever they now were, obviously lost in his thoughts, and Jessica had surmised – correctly –that he was plotting to find an efficient way to get rid of her. She had to distract him before he could put his plan in motion. Then, hopefully, someone might find her before it was too late.

"What did you say?"

"I know who you are, Daniel, and I know Sam," she said, pointing her chin toward the pictures on the wall. The truth was that she only knew of her, but this was the only card that she held.

Daniel took a few steps back, taken aback. Somehow, even if he knew that she would be dead and silenced when the night would come – he couldn't well shoot her during daytime because it was likely that someone would hear, and choking people grossed him out – he hated the fact that she had discovered his identity. Curiosity soon got the better of him, however, and he turned in her direction.

"How do you know me? We never met before."

Jessica inwardly sighed with relief. Dialogue was good, it meant delay. She thought of her father and fleetingly wondered if he had ever been confronted to such a situation in his years as an agent, and if so, what he had done to extricate himself from it. She instinctively felt that the key was to keep Daniel talking, to lend a sympathetic ear to his trouble. Just pretend that he is a poor lonely boy with love troubles, she told herself.

"It's true, we never met before," she said, forcing a smile on her lips. "I'm a newcomer to Springfield, but I've met Samantha before, because she's a friend of my boyfriend," she added, hoping she could get away with her lie.

"Who's your boyfriend?"

Jessica swallowed hard. She hated to give any information about her life to this crackpot, but the closer she stuck to the truth, the more plausible her story would seem. "Ethan Bauer, the son of Ed Bauer."

Daniel nodded; his expression inscrutable. "I know Ed," he finally said. "But you'll have to prove to me that you know Sam before I can believe that you can help me in any way."

"I recognized her on the pictures, haven't I?"

"That's not nearly enough."

Jessica racked her brains, trying to remember something specific from her conversations with Ethan. "She just finished law school. Her father's name is Justin, her uncle is Ross Marler, and she has a brother named Philip, but he was raised by Alan Spaulding."

Daniel grabbed a chair and sat in front of her, and Jessica could see that she had grabbed his interest at last. "What else?" he asked.

"She's a bookworm, just like me. She loves Shakespeare," Jessica said in a sure voice. And that's pretty much all that I know about her, she thought, her heart starting to pound in her chest. This must be what poker players felt like when they were bluffing, except that the thing at stake right now was her life.

A smile played on Daniel's lips at the mention of the English poet, as he remembered how Sam used to read to him in the early days of their relationship. "What's her favorite sonnet?"

Jessica's heart sank; how was she supposed to know that? The names of the most popular ones passed through her head, but to name one was just too risky. She had to put an end to this interrogation.

"We never discussed it; we only met a few times, and when we did, all she wanted to talk about was you."

Daniel's jaw slightly dropped, and a gleam of hope crept into his eyes.

* * *

"Easy, easy!" Ethan called to David while he pushed open the back door of the bar with his shoulder. They struggled to keep the amplificatory upright before heaving it in the back of their rented van.

"All done," David said, feeling his pockets for the keys of the van.

Ethan wiped his forehead and nodded. He took a step back to close the double doors of the van, and heard a crunching sound as he stepped on something. Looking down, he discovered a golden object half-crushed under his sneaker.

"What is it?" David asked, staring at Ethan's rapidly changing expression.

"It's a bracelet," Ethan replied, his insides churning for a reason he could not fathom yet. "I gave it to Jessica last Christmas," he added, pointing at the engraving on the back. "What is it doing here?"

David moved near his friend to take a better look. "Hey, man, is this what I think this is?" he suddenly exclaimed, showing a dark wet spot on the chain.

Ethan swallowed hard and nodded. It was blood. Turning on his heels, he ran back inside, down the corridor and up to the bar, where he grabbed the phone sitting next to the mini-fridge, David following closely behind him.

"Give me the police station, please. This is an emergency," Ethan yelled into the receiver as soon as he heard a voice at the other end of the line.

* * *

"She talked about me? What did she say?" Daniel asked. He hovered over Jessica and she was afraid that he might actually try and shake the information out of her. He soon settled down again in his chair, however, and waited for her answer.

"Not much at first, because she looks like a very private person. I think that she really needed a girl to confide in, though, someone that was about her age, and so she finally opened up a bit to me about you. She said that she had ended up things because she felt that you were a little too possessive," Jessica said, watching out for Daniel's reaction. His jaw clenched in anger, but he said nothing.

"It didn't take long for her to start missing you, but by then, she had a restraining order against you. She wants to reach out to you, but she knows that her family will never let her. They don't like you very much," she said, feeding him the information that she knew would confirm his own deductions.

"They hate me, all of them. They said I was bad for her. How can I be bad for her when I love her so much?" he retorted, his face flushed.

"Right!" Jessica concurred, all the while thinking that the straightjacket had been invented precisely for this type of person. This man was seriously deluded; it made it that much easier for her to fool him. All she had to do was to keep him happy. "She knows that too, and she wants you back. She told me that she wishes that she could find a way to sneak out of her uncle's house and see you."

Daniel sprang out of his chair and started pacing across the cramped space. There was a new energy in his steps. "Maybe she tried to call me in Chicago, only she could not reach me because I've been here for a while now."

Jessica bit her lips in frustration, desperately wishing that she could learn where this "here" was. Springfield? Clayton? Outside the State?

"Will you go to her?" she asked instead.

"They won't let me get near her."

Jessica took a deep breath before replying; her idea was risky, but she had to try. "Maybe she could come here then. If I'm the one to call her, nobody will suspect anything," she said.

* * *

"You do know that the police won't start looking for a person before he or she has been missing for 24 hours, right?" Harley Cooper said to Ethan and David as they all stood in the alley behind the bar.

Ethan could almost stump his feet on the ground in frustration. "Yes, I know that, but I know that something has happened to her. Look at the bracelet!" he said, shoving the jewel in Harley's face.

She fished out latex gloves from her jeans pockets and carefully picked the bracelet from the young man's trembling hands, before dropping it in a plastic bag.

"I can see the bracelet, Ethan, I'm not blind. We will get the blood tested as soon as possible."

David, who was standing a few feet back, called out to Harley. "Why aren't you in your uniform?" He was presently studying to be a cop himself, and knew that it was mandatory.

Harley smiled. "Good catch, David. As I said, the police can't intervene just yet, but when Mallet got your call, he called me at home so that I could look into it. It's my day off."

"Yeah, yeah, David, you get an A for your deduction skills," Ethan almost shouted. "Now what do we do about Jessica?"

Harley put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We don't know that anything has happened to her yet, so try not to panic. We'll start by looking around here," she said, scanning the alley.

"You have to interrogate the staff that was here last night, most of them are here morning," Ethan said frantically, ignoring her advice to calm down. "Maybe someone saw her!"

"Maybe," Harley muttered as she circled the van, peering at the ground. Looking up, her eyes met what resembled a pile of rags leaning against a waste bin, and her face broke into a smile. "What have we here?" she said, walking up to the bin.

"Hey, Marvin! Wake up!" she shouted to the rags, banging loudly on the bin at the same time. After a few seconds, the pile of clothes started to stir, revealing a very dirty homeless man.

"Stop that racket, Rufus, or else you'll end up in the waste bin," Marvin grumbled, and a waft of alcohol escaped his toothless mouth.

"It's not Rufus, Marvin, it's Harley Cooper. Buzz Cooper's daughter!"

Marvin sneered and tried to get up, only to fall back on the ground. "Oh, yeah! That bastard from the dinner owes me ten bucks."

"I bet he does," Harley replied, taking her wallet out and handing him a twenty-dollar bill. "Marvin, I need to know if you spent the night here, and if so, if you saw anything weird."

Ethan and David gathered around the man, waiting for his answer with bated breath.

"How should I know? I was sleeping," Marvin said.

"Please try."

"I was sleeping, I'm telling you! And I had all those bad dreams too; about that car and that man pushing a girl into the trunk – "

"What did you say?" Ethan and Harley exclaimed at the same time.

"Beautiful girl with a big red hat; I wondered how the dream ended…"Marvin's voiced trailed off, and he fell asleep again.

"Do you think that he might have seen Jessica?" David asked the others.

"I don't know, but Sam Marler was the one wearing a red hat yesterday," Ethan said.

"Oh boy! Let's call her house right now, then." Harley said, but before she could walk away, David grabbed her by the hand.

"I don't think that will be necessary. Dylan saw Sam to her door last night; Kat and I were with them in the car."

"Then the girl in the trunk might have been Jess!" Ethan said frantically.

"Assuming that this happened for real, then yes, it could have been her. But who might want to kidnap her?" Harley asked.

"Everyone loves Jess."

They all stood silent, trying to find the missing link. They all felt that Drunken Marvin had indeed stumbled upon something he was not supposed to witness, and that Jessica might be in danger.

"Wait a minute," Harley suddenly said. "When Marvin mentioned the hat, Ethan immediately thought that he was referring to Sam Marler. If Jessica was indeed wearing a similar-looking hat, maybe the kidnapper made the same mistake."

"Daniel St. John!" Ethan said. Harley nodded before breaking into a run. "Let's get down to the station, now!"

* * *

"Nice try, but I'm not letting you call Samantha," Daniel said, shaking his head. "I can't risk anyone finding out where you are."

"I don't even know where I am myself! Besides, nobody has to know that you brought me here. If we could just go back to Springfield – "

Daniel slammed his fist on the table and took out his gun. "How stupid do you think I am? Now you shut up; I need time to think!"


	17. The Great Escape, Part 1

**Springfield**

"What do we have so far, Cooper?" Mallet barked at his wife across the police station a few hours later. Harley hung up the phone, grabbed a file and joined him at his desk, followed by an anxious Ethan and David.

"The Chicago Police are helping on the case. They have a search warrant for Daniel's office and his apartment, but so far they found nothing. They said it looks as if he has not been in either location in quite a while. It confirms what we suspected, that he has been in the area for a few weeks at least."

"Yes, I heard he was spotted in Clayton not too long ago by a former colleague from Cedars hospital, but he bolted as soon as he saw him."

Harley opened the file she was carrying and put it on the desk for all to see. "These are Daniel's credit card and bank account statements. There might be something in there that might help us locate him, like a hotel or a car reservation."

"What if he used an alias or if he paid cash?" David asked.

"That may be, but we have to start somewhere. From what I heard, this guy is not so much the evil mastermind as a fool in love; chances are he didn't think things through," Mallet answered.

After perusing the statements twice, Harley shook her head. "I don't see anything regarding a hotel or a car rental. We might investigate this, though, and this," she said, pointing at two entries on the sheet.

Mallet looked over her shoulder at the statement and his eyes narrowed.

"What is it?" Ethan asked worriedly, his eyes riveted on the officers' imperturbable expressions.

"Let's get on it," Mallet said sternly, ignoring Ethan's question. He turned toward the two young men and his expression softened. "Listen, guys, you'd better go home. We'll keep you posted."

Ethan shook his head emphatically. "No way! I want to come with you! I cannot stay here and do nothing!" He was as pale as a sheet and his body looked as tense as a string that had been stretched to its limit.

"You are not coming with us! What do you think this is? A circus? Find yourself something else to do."

David took hold of Ethan's sleeve and practically dragged him out of the station. "I know it's hard, but Mallet is right; there's nothing that we can do here. Besides, we still have to get the amplifiers and the pedals back to the music store."

"I couldn't care less about that stupid equipment right now."

"All the more reason while we should take care of it; it will take your mind off of things. Why don't we see if Samantha's home and pick her up on the way? She should know about this, seeing as she was the intended victim. She might have ideas as to where Daniel might have taken Jessica."

Ethan brightened up at the suggestion. "Good idea."

* * *

**Alexandrov's mansion**

Partly hidden from the others valets by a Bentley, Roger discreetly looked at his watch. It was only nine o'clock in Russia, which meant that he still had more than an hour to wait for the others. He had succeeded in switching the licenses between Anna's and a car he had randomly picked, but taking out her vehicle from the garage at the arranged hour was another matter. They had not counted on the sudden rain, which forced the whole crew to take refuge indoors. The garage was now crowded, and his move would be sure to be noticed.

He started pacing, pulling at the collar of his uniform. He felt like he was been strangled by an invisible hand, the same which was keeping him outside of the mansion, while his wife and his daughter were inside, left to their own devices. How could he have agreed to let them go without him?

He walked up to the double doors and peered outside. The house was ablaze with lights, and music could be heard even over the pouring rain. Suddenly making up his mind, he turned to the others and mumbled something in approximate Polish, then went out. The other valets merely shrugged, vaguely wondering why he would be foolish enough to stroll out in this weather, then resumed their conversation.

* * *

Inside the house, the guests were still gathered in the two adjoining sitting rooms, chatting animatedly and downing cocktails with unrestrained enthusiasm. Soon, they would be asked to the dining room where dinner would be served and speeches would be made. Whatever they are celebrating, Holly thought as she snapped yet another picture of two drunken businessmen, it looks like terribly good news.

So far, she had succeeded in taking two out of the three pictures that Anna needed. As the secret agent had predicted, she had been left pretty much alone so far, which made her task almost easy. Yes, everything was going well, except for the fact that her heart was in her mouth and that she saw red every time a man approached Blake. She had to hand it to her daughter, however; she certainly knew out to keep her cool. She also noticed that Anna was making good on her promise to keep an eye on Blake, tactfully rescuing her from wandering hands from time to time.

Holly looked about the room to locate the third person that she needed to photograph, which was the woman, when a man accosted her, almost making her jump in fright. The man was in his late forties and rather handsome in a cold and intimidating way. He addressed her in perfect French.

"Hello, I'm Sergei Alexandrov. I'm the host of this little get-together."

Holly swallowed hard while plastering a smile on her face. The owner of the house wanted to have a little chat; just her luck. From the corner of her eyes, she saw that Anna had spotted them and was trying to decide if she was in trouble or not.

Meanwhile, Alexandrov was studying her with visible interest. "Anna tells me that you're a very talented photographer. You are from France? I love this country; I have visited it many times."

You have to say something now, Holly commended herself. Fortunately, she knew that she could still speak French without any traces of an American accent, thanks to her stay in Switzerland. Or at least, she still could the last time that she tried, which was a few years ago. There was only one way to find out.

"Thank you for having me. Russia is a splendid country as well," she finally managed to say, relieved by the confidence emanating from her voice.

Alexandrov beamed at the compliment. "Where are you from exactly?"

"I was born and raised in Paris," she lied. Paris was not Illinois, but hey, it was close enough.

He took a step toward her and casually rested his hand on the small of her back. "I find that there is something intoxicating about Parisian women. So sophisticated, so mysterious, so beautiful," he said in a low voice as he looked into her eyes. "Maybe we could continue this conversation later on, say, after this little evening is over?"

"I would be delighted," she replied, giving him her most seductive smile. Of course, by then, she would be long gone, and she smirked inwardly at the thought of him waiting in vain for his false Frenchwoman. He was about to move away from her when she finally spotted the woman who had to be the subject of her last picture.

"Before you go, would you care to pose for me, with this lovely lady over there?" she said to Alexandrov.

"Of course. Natalia," he said, turning to the other woman and motioning her to join them. He placed an arm around her and they both faced the camera.

"Say cheese!"

* * *

Soon after, the guests left the sitting room and were ushered by the butler to the dining room across the corridor. Holly lagged behind, as well as Blake and Anna. When they were completely alone, Anna quickly went to the door and closed it.

"Holly, did you manage to take all three pictures?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. Give me the film right now and put a new one in. If for some reason you cannot get out of here, at least I'll have it," the blond added matter-of-factly. When she saw the two redheads stare back at her in dismay, she started laughing.

"I am sorry if that sounded a little harsh; I am not used to working with civilians. I'll never leave you behind if I can help it."

Secret agent humour, just what she needed, Holly thought grumpily as she handed Anna the film. "I'll be waiting for you in the main hall then?"

"Yes. It's now nine thirty. Blake and I will be in the dining room until ten, and then we'll join you as soon as Alexandrov starts his speech. Speaking of which, I saw him talking to you earlier. What did he want?"

Holly looked at Blake before answering. "I think it's safe to say that he'd like to have a little taste of France before the night is over."

Blake pursed her lips and murmured "Gross."

Anna shrugged. "He is gross; half the men here tonight are. The only things that Alexandrov has on his mind are sex, vodka, and money. Stay away from here until the night is over, okay?" she added earnestly.

Holly nodded. The intensity of Anna's warning was unsettling. "How come he never made a pass at you?" Blake asked Anna.

"He did, but I told him I was gay. For a second there, I thought he was going to fire me. He's been avoiding me since, that dumbass."

She walked back to the door and opened it slightly. "The coast is clear. If we're not in the main hall by 10:15, Holly, go and meet Roger at the eastern exit like we decided."

They all shook hands and Holly and Blake hugged. "Good luck."

* * *

**Springfield**

"I don't understand why my mother would leave her hotel without a forwarding address," Ethan said later that day, as David, Samantha, Dylan and he were on their way to the music store. "Now, there is no way for me to let her and Roger know about Jess until they call me, and who knows how long that will take?"

"I still can't believe all of this is happening," Sam said in the back seat. She had burst into tears when Ethan had broken the news to her and was now racked with guilt at the thought that someone else's life was put in danger because of Daniel's obsession with her.

Beside her, Dylan was sitting silently with an arm tightly wrapped around her shoulders. "Think, Sam. Is there any place where he might have taken her? Somewhere that was meaningful to both of you?"

Samantha sniffed loudly and wiped her tears. "I can think of a few places, but they are in Chicago and they are public places, like restaurants. There is that park also, at the outskirts of the city, but he can't really be holding her outdoors."

"Besides, chances are they might still be in the area. That's what Harley and Mallet seem to be thinking."

"Do you think that he could really hurt her, Sam?" Ethan asked.

Samantha recalled the suspicious death of Daniel's old lover and chose her words carefully. "Daniel can be very quick-tempered, but to say that he would be able to seriously harm somebody? I honestly don't know."

They all sat in silence as David drove their rented van in the direction of Clayton. "Damn," David said after a few minutes, "it looks like there is road work ahead." Indeed, traffic was stalling at the next stop as construction workers moved about the road.

"Turn right at the next alley. It goes through 3rd Street, and we can reach the music store from there," Dylan said. David obeyed and slowed down as the van entered the narrow alley. They were almost half-way through when Sam, who had been staring absent-mindedly outside, yelled "Stop! Stop now!"

David slammed on the breaks and the young woman immediately rushed out, followed by the others. "I think that Daniel is here," she finally explained in response to the others' inquisitive stare.

"WHAT?" Ethan exclaimed. He looked around wildly, trying to locate the crazy doctor. Samantha walked over to a grey car parked against the building on the left side of the alley, and pointed at a piece of fabric hanging from the rear-view mirror.

"Is this Daniel car?" Dylan asked, but Sam shook her head.

"I don't think so, at least it's not the car that he used to drive a few months ago, but this scarf hanging from the mirror...this scarf is mine."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. He bought it for me during a trip to Italy. Look at the print; this is one of a kind. When I left him, he begged me to leave it behind so that he would have something to remember me by, and I didn't have the heart to refuse him."

Ethan took her in his arms and gave her a squeeze. For the first time since he had realized that his girlfriend was missing, he was finally hoping to find a way out of this nightmare. "Thank God you did leave it to him! Let's have a look around!"

"I think that we should call Harley first, this might be dangerous. There a payphone around the corner," David said. Ethan sprinted towards the phone and dug a quarter from his jeans pockets. Harley picked up on the second ring.

"Harley, we think we might have found Daniel!"

There was a gasp at the other end of the line. "How did you manage that?"

"Pure luck," Ethan replied excitedly as he recounted how they had stumbled upon the car and scarf.

"Okay. What's the address?"

"Let me check." Ethan covered the earpiece and shouted to the others to get the address. Dylan ran to the front of the building and came back a few seconds later, panting, with the information.

"31 Charles Street. It's between 2nd and 3rd Street."

Ethan heard a shuffling of papers before Harley answered. "Looks like you might be right, Ethan. This place is a warehouse where you can rent storage space. It was on our list of places to search; Daniel used his credit card two weeks ago to rent a space there."

"If his car is here, it means that he's probably in there right now, and Jessica might be with him! What's the number of the unit?"

"I'm not telling you that; I don't want you to barge in there and get yourself shot."

"You think he's armed?"

"According to his bank account statement, he bought a gun a few weeks ago, so you just lay low until we get there, okay?"

"Harley..." Ethan pleaded.

"Just keep watch and stay out of sight. Promise me!"

"Alright."


	18. The Stakeout

**Springfield**

While waiting for the police to arrive, Ethan, David, Sam and Dylan decided to hide behind a row of containers lining the alley. From there, they could easily observe the storage building without being seen. Ethan struggled to stay still and visions of Jessica, lying in a pool of her own blood, passed before his eyes.

"I can't stand this anymore. Jessica might be in there; we have to do something!" he finally said to the others.

He was about to spring out from behind their hiding place when Dylan put a firm hand on his shoulders. "Listen, man, Harley and Mallet will be here any minute now. I understand - "

"No, you don't understand, Dylan!" Ethan almost shouted, trying in vain to shake off his friend's hand.

"Ok, you're right. I don't know what you must be feeling, but I can guess. But if you try to get in there right now, you might end up getting Jess killed yourself. Daniel is crazy; I don't think that it's good idea to set him off. Let the professionals handle it, please!"

Ethan bowed his head and inhaled deeply, trying to get a grip.

"Let's go for a little walk, what do you say? It will do you good," Dylan finally said, pointing his chin at the end of the alley. They walked in silence for a few feet, with Ethan looking over his shoulders, his eyes riveted on the door of the storage unit rented by Daniel.

"So, you couldn't reach your mother?" Dylan inquired as soon as they were out of ear shot from the others.

"No, looks like Roger and her just took off. Usually, they keep us posted on their itinerary, but I guess I'll have to worry about that later."

"Is Blake with them?"

Ethan glanced at Dylan and could not resist answering. "What do you care?"

Dylan sighed. "Your sister is the one that dumped me, buddy."

"Because she was convinced that you're still in love with Sam, and from what I can gather, I agree with her. You've been spending a lot of time with her since Blake left."

"Yes, I have, and if you must know, I do still have feelings for Sam. But I was ready to try and make things work with Blake, because I care about her. I care about her a lot, but she told me that she doesn't feel the same."

"What?" Ethan asked incredulously.

Sorrow crossed Dylan's eyes. "She likes me, but she doesn't love me, so if you assumed that I was betraying her by spending time with Sam, you were wrong. She more or less pushed me back into her arms."

Ethan stood with his mouth slightly opened, and while discussing the subject was uncomfortable for Dylan, he was glad that it could take Ethan's mind off his present troubles. "So you're back with Sam?"

"Nothing happened, yet. We talked a lot, about Daniel, about why she had left me, and it made me understand her reasons a little better."

"Which were?"

"After her car accident with my mom, she thought she could never walk again. She was convinced that her life was over before it had even started. I remember how depressed she got at that time, and it seemed like there was nothing that I could do to cheer her up. And then he came along. He made her walk again. He was her savior."

Dylan's tone was bitter as he recalled their break-up. "I loved her, but let's face it; I was just a clueless bum at that time. He was older, handsome, and he had a future. I can see how dazzling he must have looked to her."

"And now?"

Dylan let out a little laugh. "Well now it looks like I'm the one with the upper hand, doesn't it?" I work at Lewis Construction, I have prospects. What does he have to look forward to, beside a few years in the slammer? I hope they catch him, Ethan, for all our sakes."

Ethan blinked and tears threatened to spill from his eyes. They hugged briefly and turned to join the others. At the other end of the alley, a police car silently rolled in and came to a halt, followed by two others.

"Finally," Ethan muttered between his clenched teeth.

* * *

Jessica tried to evaluate how long they had been sitting silently in the room. Was it two hours? Five? She could not even tell if it was day or night. The only noises that she could make out were Daniel's mumbling. He was obviously struggling to find a way out, and it was just as obvious to her that so far, he had not stumbled upon it.

After opening and closing her lips a few times, she finally risked incurring his wrath by talking. "It's funny; I can't stop thinking about my boyfriend Ethan," she said in a soft voice.

Daniel raised his eyes to her but said nothing, so she went on.

"He's the most important person in the world to me, you see? I mean, I love my parents and my sister, but with Ethan, it's another kind of love. It's unique. He's my partner; the one and only person that can help me build this life that I've envisioned for so long.

"If you think that you'll move me into letting you go, think again. I don't care about your little boyfriend, or your little feelings."

"I know you don't. I don't expect you to; we don't even know each other. But you do know how I feel, don't you?" Jessica retorted, always in the same soothing tone. Daniel scoffed, but she could see that she had struck a nerve. "Who's the most important person in the world to you, Daniel?"

"You know it's Sam."

"Yeah, I do know. I know exactly how you feel about her. Now, I would think that, given the fact that you can't seem to live without her, your priority would be to get her back."

Daniel crossed his arms and sat on the edge of the table, intrigued in spite of him. Jessica squirmed to find a more comfortable position on her chair. Her hands were still tied behind her, and her right wrist was positively burning. She could not see it, but the hot wet feeling on her hands told her that she was probably bleeding.

"Okay, smarty pants, what are you getting at?"

"What I mean is that instead of trying to get Sam back, you're losing all this precious time trying to think of ways to kill me. It seems counterproductive to me."

"I bet it does, especially since it's your life that we're talking about."

"I won't pretend that I don't want to die, Daniel, but can't you see that if you kill me, you'll lose all your chances with her?"

"No, I won't! They'll never know it was me."

"Murderers get arrested all the time. That's what you would be, Daniel: a murderer. And Sam will know all about it."

Daniel flinched. "They wouldn't know it was me," he repeated, losing his temper.

"How can you be so sure? I talked to several people last night at the bar; word will get out that I was there. Maybe someone recognized you under your disguise; maybe someone saw you shove me into that trunk. Maybe someone is even on their way to find us as we speak. There are so many things that you can't be certain of, Daniel. Wouldn't you rather let me go before Sam figures out what you did?"

"Shut up."

"There is still time for you to let me go, Daniel."

Daniel banged his fist on the table, causing her to jump.

"Shut up, I said! Don't you think I know that you'll run right to the police if I ever set you free?"

Jessica fought the urge to burst into tears. She got to him, she could feel it. She just had to find the right tactic before he did the irreparable.

"I would not run to the police, but I can't blame you for thinking that I would. Let's forget about this whole "letting me go" idea. There's another reason why you should let me live."

"What, you're pregnant? Cause let me tell you right now, it wouldn't stop me either," Daniel sneered.

Jessica repressed a shiver and stared into his eyes. She hated him so much by now that she was almost beyond fear. How she would enjoy sticking a gun between his legs and fire! She forced herself to get back to the subject at hand.

"I'm talking about Sam. You want to see her, and she wants to see you, only it hasn't work so far, has it?"

"No," Daniel admitted begrudgingly.

"Ross won't let you see her, nor Justin. And certainly not Dylan," she added casually, waiting for her words to take effect. She was not disappointed; colour rushed up Daniel's cheeks at the mention of Sam's ex-boyfriend.

"That's right, Dylan. He's around again. In fact, they were together last night at the show. Didn't you see them?"

Daniel had.

"He won't let you get anywhere near her."

"I'll find a way to talk to her. She can't be around people all the time."

"Sure, but it could take days, or even weeks, before you get the opportunity. And who knows, maybe by then Dylan will have succeeded in getting back into her heart for good."

Daniel grunted. Yes, that girl was definitely rattling him. "So, what do you suggest?"

"I could help you get in touch with her. I could act as your middle man. I don't know her that much, as I said, but no one will be suspicious of me if I give her a call, and, say, get her to meet with me somewhere."

Daniel took a long breath in. "Let's say, for the sake of argument, that we follow your plan. What guaranty do I have that you won't spill the beans as soon as you get her on the phone?"

"You don't have any, besides my word. But as I said before, I think that we have pretty much established that I'm your only chance."

* * *

"I can't hear anything; either that door is pretty thick or there is nobody in there," Mallet said as he pressed his ear against the door of the storage unit.

"We have to know if they're in there or not; we can't wait that much longer," Harley said in a low voice.

Mallet nodded. "There's only one way to find out." He walked to the four young people. "I'm going to have to ask you to move away from the alley. No arguing."

"What are you going to do?" Ethan asked, the lump in his throat doubling in size.

"We'll try to smoke that fox out of his hole. Now, this guy is armed, so I won't risk you getting caught in the cross-fire, should there be one. You're going to go and stand on the other side of the building and wait for us."

"Don't let him shoot her, Harley," Ethan pleaded with his friend as they all walked away. Harley shot him a reassuring look, while inside her thoughts were racing. She hated it when her cases involved people she knew, which in a small city like Springfield happened often. It made it that much harder for her not to bring her feelings to work. She went to hide with the four other police officers behind the container and waved to her fiancé, letting him know that they were ready.

Mallet turned to the door and knocked loudly. "Maintenance! Is there anybody in there?" They all held their breath as the seconds passed. Mallet banged on the door once again, still with no result.

"I'm coming in!" he finally bluffed, dangling the keys of his car.

He waited for several more minutes and was about to walk away when a male voice on the other side answered him.

"What do you want?"

Mallet turned toward Harley and mouthed "Bingo."

"Hello, Sir. There's a problem with the plumbing in this part of the building. Leaks. I need to come in and see if it has infiltrated this unit."

"It hasn't. Go away."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Sir. You see, I need to fix this, or else I'll lose my job. Surely you can understand that."

There was a long silence, and then the voice talked again. "I'm busy here. I thought this place was supposed to be private."

"Is it, sir, and normally I would never come in, but I can't help the leaks, sir."

Mallet took his gun out of his holster, just in case, but still nothing move inside. "Listen, sir. Why don't I give you a few minutes to finish your business and to straighten out whatever stuff you have in there? Let's say I get back in fifteen minutes?"

"No. I don't want you in here, I said."

"Sir, if I don't come in, somebody else will. I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

Not waiting for an answer, Mallet walked back to the container and crouched beside Harley.

"Is it Daniel?" she asked.

"The voice was muffled, but I'm pretty sure that it was him.

"What if he panics and shoots her?"

"He might have done the same if I would have announced myself as a police officer. Besides, we don't know that she's in there with him, so the only thing that we can do is to force him out so that we can find out."

"So, now we wait."

"We wait."


	19. The Great Escape, Part 2

**Alexandrov's mansion**

At ten o'clock sharp, Alexandrov rose from his chair and raised his glass, proposing a toast. Anna had to hand it to him; he always was punctual. After draining his glass of vodka in one swift motion, he began his speech, which Anna knew by heart. After all, she was the one who had written it.

Her eyes caught Blake's and the two discreetly left the dining room. "Are the guests all accounted for?" she asked as soon as they were in the corridor.

"I saw a woman head out for the rest room, but she's back in there now," Blake confirmed.

"I saw her too. Do you have the Taser?"

Blake patted her apron and nodded. "Let's go then." Anna opened the way, while Blake followed with the trolley. They went to the main hall, and then entered another corridor. Anna passed the portrait of a stern bearded man and stopped. She felt the wallpaper until, suddenly, the wall gave way beneath her fingers. "Let me go in first, and wait for my signal," Anna ordered.

The agent plastered a casual expression on her face as she went down the stairs. She was met by the guard, a bear of a man who relaxed as soon as he recognized her. "Hello, Anna."

"Hello Piotr, how are you?" she inquired with a smile. She placed herself so that the man would have to turn his back to the stairs.

"Not bad, but it sounds like I'm missing all the fun," Piotr said, pointing upstairs good-humouredly. "Quite a party going on, I'd say."

"Quite, yes. Speaking of which, I brought you a little something," Anna said, handing him a flask of vodka.

Piotr hesitated. "I'm really not supposed to."

"Just a sip, I won't tell."

"Alright then." The guard took a long swig and wiped his face. "Hits the spot," he said, and they both laughed. "What brings you here at this time of night?"

"Some urgent business that I need to discuss with Paul, I'm afraid. Is he up?"

Upon hearing Paul's name, which was the signal they had agreed upon earlier, Blake stealthily made her way downstairs. She took the Taser out of her apron and aimed at Piotr, but before she could fire, she tripped and tumbled down the remaining stairs with a cry.

Piotr turned abruptly, taking his gun out. "What is going on here?" Anna did not wait for him to face her again and, taking out her own gun, knocked it hard on the back of his skull. The man was so large, however, that it did not prove enough to knock him out. He turned to Anna with a stunned expression and leaned against the wall, not letting go of his gun.

"Anna?" he said, incomprehension filling his eyes. Anna's heart was suddenly very heavy; Piotr was not a bad man, he just happened to work for bad people. She didn't want to shoot him, but what else could she do?

"Blake, the taser!" she shouted at the young woman who was still lying on the floor. Blake looked up and Anna could immediately see that the young woman was paralysed with fear. There would be no help coming from her. She turned her attention back to the guard, who was slowly trying to get up.

"Don't move, Piotr, or I'll shoot you."

"How about I shoot you first?" he said, his voice now filled with anger at her betrayal. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, both aiming their gun at the other's heart. This will end in a blood bath, Anna thought.

"Listen, Piotr, no one needs to die here tonight. If you would just let me go about my business, nothing is going to happen to you."

Piotr sneered and was about to answer when there was a sudden movement at the top of the stairs. He turned barely in time to receive Roger's fist on his nose, which gave way with a crunching noise. Blood splattered and Piotr grabbed his face, momentarily blinded. Roger yanked the taser out of his daughter's trembling hands and fired in the guard's direction. Piotr writhed on the floor and, after a few spasms, became limp.

Blake crawled toward him, horrified. "Is he dead?"

Roger tucked the taser in the back pocket of his pants and helped her up. "No, just out of order for a few hours."

Anna took out her flask and added: "More likely for the whole night; I gave him a little sedative as well. What are you doing here, Roger? Not that I'm not glad that you showed up, obviously, but still we had agreed that you'd wait outside."

Roger shrugged. "I couldn't stay away. It looks like I made the right decision too. Are you alright?" He asked Blake, who was still white as a sheet.

"I couldn't do it," she stammered. "I couldn't hurt him; I'm sorry."

"It's okay, honey." He took her in his arms and kissed the top of her head, then turned to Anna, who was busy retrieving keys from the guard's pocket. "Where are they?" he asked, but Anna didn't need to answer; a weak voice echoed from the end of the corridor. "Roger?"

A wide grin appeared on Roger's face, and the three all broke into a jog. They soon reached the source of the voice and discovered Jack and Paul, each gripping the bars of their respective cells in anticipation.

"How did you find us, man?" Jack croaked. Roger frowned as he took in the sight of his friend. Sweat covered his face and he was shivering.

"We'll explain later," Anna said as she unlocked his cell. "Can you walk?" Jack nodded. He walked out, and leaned on Roger and Blake, who offered their support.

"Anna?"

They all turned to Paul, who wore the most complete expression of surprise on his face. Anna fumbled with her keys, suddenly flustered, as always when she laid eyes on him.

"Give me that," Roger mumbled, taking the keys from her hands. He quickly unlocked the door of Paul's cell and their eyes met as the handsome Frenchman came out. So this is the man, Roger thought with an appraising look.

"I don't know who you are, but thank you," Paul said.

"You'll thank me later," Roger replied curtly. If you still feel like it, he added to himself as he thought of Holly, waiting upstairs.

"How do we get out of here?" Jack asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"We brought a trolley; you'll have to hide under the table cloth until we can get you out of the house," Anna explained as they all back toward the entrance. "Roger, is the car ready?"

"I couldn't get it out of the garage without arousing suspicion; I was afraid that someone from the permanent staff might realize that it was your car and start asking questions. It's pouring outside, and all the valets have gathered up in the garage."

"Damn! Give me the keys, I'll get it. Just make sure that the four of you are waiting by the side entrance when I come back." Anna said before sprinting up the stairs. They followed her quickly, and Blake shuddered as they passed the motionless figure of Piotr. They found the trolley at the top of the stairs and Jack and Paul squeezed themselves in.

When Roger was satisfied that no tell-tale limb was showing from under the cloth, he turned to his daughter. "You'll have to be the one who pushes the trolley, in case we run into someone, but don't worry; I'll be a few steps ahead of you the whole time. We just have to pretend that we don't know each other."

Blake nodded sheepishly. "I won't screw up this time, I promise."

Roger cradled her chin in his hand and stared into her eyes. "Hey, stop beating yourself up, okay? You being here at all is amazingly brave, remember that."

After make sure that the corridor was empty, they both came out of the basement and closed the secret door behind them. They made it to the main hall without making any encounters.

"Mom should be here by now," Blake murmured, fighting a mounting sense of panic. Roger turned briefly and she could see that he was as worried as she was. They turned toward the second corridor, the one leading to the exit, and suddenly they could hear the music coming from the dining room.

"Just keep walking," Roger commanded his daughter as they passed the dining room door. They had barely passed it when it opened with a bang, revealing a very drunk man. Losing his balance, he would have fell on the trolley if Roger had not turned around in time to yank him up.

Once he was back on his feet, the man smoothed his tuxedo vest down and walked away unsteadily. Roger and Blake exchanged a quick glance and let out a sigh of relief, while under the tablecloth, Paul and Jack did their best to remain still. They were about to start again when the man turned around and called out something in Russian. It was clearly aimed at Roger.

Roger slowly turned around and replied in Polish, and though Blake could not understand the words, her father's body language made his meaning clear. He was pretending not to understand the man. The latter stared at him for a few more seconds with narrowed eyes, and then finally disappeared around the corner.

"What did he want?" Blake hissed.

Roger waited for them to reach the double doors leading to the exit before answering. "My Russian is not what it used to be, but he asked if we knew each other from somewhere." He lifted the tablecloth and motioned to Paul and Jack to come out.

"Well, do you?"

"Do you what?" Jack asked, wincing as he moved his wounded arm.

"That man who almost crashed into the trolley was Igor Azarov," Roger replied.

"Damn! Did he recognize you?"

"Is someone going to tell me who this guy is?" Blake interrupted impatiently.

"Our paths crossed in the eighties while Jack and I were on a mission in Belarus. Let's just say we weren't on the same side," Roger explained to his daughter. "We could never pin anything on him, unfortunately, but I'm not surprised to see that he still runs into these circles." He opened the exterior door slightly and peered outside.

"Anna is here with the car; let's go. Jack, I'm sorry but you'll have to go in the trunk since you have no passport. Are you hanging in there?" he asked, nodding at Jack's arm, dandling by his side.

"Sure, I always prefer the trunk. It's quiet," Jack replied with a wink before climbing inside of it. Fortunately, it was a large sedan and there was enough space for his long frame to fit in.

Anna climbed out of the car and handed her keys to Roger, while Blake and Paul both climbed in the back seat and closed the doors.

Making sure that no one lurked near, Anna leaned toward Roger and whispered: "I'm going to get the rest of the documents with Holly. We should be back in ten minutes. If not..."

"Holly wasn't in the main hall when we walked through it a few minutes ago. You need to find her," Roger interrupted urgently, grabbing her by the arm.

"I told her to meet me upstairs instead, so that she would not attract attention. I'm sure she's fine."

Roger slowly let go of her arm. "I'll be waiting for you both. I don't care if we all end up getting caught; I'm not leaving Holly behind."

"Hey, I would never dare coming back without her," Anna said, allowing herself to make a little fun at his expense.

Roger relaxed a little and returned her smile. "Get her back, that's all I'm asking. One last thing; I saw Igor Azarov outside the dinner room, and he saw me."

Anna's smiled faded and was replaced with the urge to kick the door of the car shut. "Damn it, Roger! This is exactly why we agreed that you should stay outside of the house, so that nobody would recognize you!"

For a split second, Roger almost looked contrite, but then retorted in the same angered tone: "And this is exactly why I wanted Holly and Blake not to be involved in this, so that I wouldn't have to watch over them. You agreed to let them in the house, now we all have to deal with that decision."

"Well, I couldn't do very well do it alone, now could I? And you couldn't be the one to come with me in the house. We've been over this-"

Jack suddenly popped his head from inside the trunk and interrupted them before the conversation could take a nastier turn. "Listen guys, not to rush you or anything, but I'm in a trunk here, so if you could just get moving?!"

Anna and Roger looked at him apologetically before Anna disappeared back inside.

"For what it's worth, I think Azarov was too drunk to remember who I am," Roger had time to whisper before the door shut behind her. He then sat down behind the wheel and turned to Paul, who stared back at him with inquisitive eyes.

"There's no time to explain now, but you have to hide until we can get out of the country. We're headed to Finland tonight. If could just make yourself as small as possible, I'd appreciate it. Yes, that's it. Blake, put the blanket over him."

"Can I at least assume that I'm not a prisoner anymore? You're on my side?" Paul asked, his voice now muffled by the heavy blanket.

Roger hesitated only a second before replying. "Yes, I'm on your side." Holly would join them soon enough for the pieces of the puzzle to fall into place for Paul anyway.

* * *

Anna made her way back to the entrance hall of the house and then up the main stairs. On the first landing, she turned right and increased her pace. She found Holly pacing nervously in front of Alexandrov's office.

"Am I glad to see you! We had trouble downstairs, which is why I'm a little late. Roger was going crazy knowing you were alone inside the house."

"What happened?"

Anna dismissed her question and pushed her inside the office. "There's not time to explain now, but everyone is alive and well, and we got them out. They're waiting for us as planned."

As she walked into the room, Holly almost felt like she was going to faint from nervousness. This might be routine for Anna, but she was no spy. She pictured a big margarita and promised herself that, if she ever were to get out of this alive, she would walk into the first bar that she crossed and down a whole pitcher.

Shaking the fear off, she looked around and noticed the solid oak built-in bookcases that covered three of the four walls from floor to ceiling, as well as the thick Oriental rug under her feet. Two dark green leathers couches faced each other at one end of the room, while at the other end stood the massive desk, also made of oak. In one corner stood two stuffed grizzly bears, teeth bared and claws out, immortalized in one last eternal fight.

Holly shivered at the sight before Anna's voice made her snap out of her reveries. "Hey, Holly, how about some help here?"

She saw that Anna was already busy taking out documents out of a safe hidden behind one of the bookcases. "They must really trust you to have given you the combination," she remarked.

"They don't, I've put a hidden camera in one of the bears over there last week, which I am going to retrieve right now, might I add. You never know when you'll need to use a stuffed grizzly bear," Anna replied, laughing softly at her own joke.

More secret agent humour, great, Holly thought.

Anna started to rummage through the bear's fur. "You photograph the documents that I've taken out of the safe while I look for it." She glanced at her watch. "We're leaving in ten minutes, no matter what we have time to gather."

Holly nodded and they got to work.

* * *

Downstairs, in the dining room, Alexandrov's finally put his glass down. His speech was done and had lasted exactly fifteen minutes, as he had anticipated. He welcomed the cheers of his guests with a smile and a nod of the head; it was going to be a lucrative year for all of them. He looked around the table and counted, besides his business associates, two judges, the chief of police from Moscow and the owner of the biggest newspaper in Russia. Nothing could go wrong for them, absolutely nothing.

He patted Vasiliev's back and headed outside the dining room. There was a red-head that he could not take out of his mind; hopefully she was still in the house. He just had to find her.


	20. The Great Escape Part 3

**Alexandrov's mansion**

"I think we're done," Anna said as she put the documents back into the safe. She looked around to make sure that there would be no trace of their excursion in the room, while Holly tucked away safely the mini-camera.

"Let's blow this joint," Holly replied, zipping up her leather jacket. She wasn't used to this edgier style on her, yet she rather liked it. She felt bolder just by having it on. The two women quickly walked out of the room and were about to go down the main stairs when they spotted Alexandrov in the hall below. As if sensing their presence, he lifted his head and gazed straight at them. A smile dawned on his lips and a flash of lust appeared in his eyes.

Holly instinctively took a step back, but Anna put a firm hand on the small of her back, silently commanding her to stay still. Running from him would mean blowing their cover. They would have to outsmart him if they were to escape safely.

"Ladies," Alexandrov began in French, "I was looking for you." His eyes were fixed on Holly as he uttered the last phrase, and she felt cold sweat running down her spine.

"Do you still need me to take pictures downstairs?" she managed to reply in an even tone.

"Actually, no. I think that our work for tonight is done. I have addressed my guests, and they are now thoroughly enjoying themselves in the dining room."

Anna glanced at her watch and gave Alexandrov a pleasant smile. "I'm happy that everything went as planned, Sir. This will be my clue to leave for Moscow to take care of the business that we discussed yesterday."

"Yes, you can go" Alexandrov replied, still staring at Holly.

Anna cleared her throat. "I will be giving Madame Foissy a ride back into town as well," she added before inviting Holly to follow her to the garage. Holly's heart pounded hard within her chest as they walked away from Alexandrov. They only had time to take a few steps, however, before he called them back.

"If I may be so bold, I'd like to invite Madame Foissy to stay for a drink before she leaves. She needs to relax after all that hard work, and so do I. It is so seldom that I can converse about something other than business, and I believe we were discussing your beautiful country before we were interrupted earlier this evening."

"You flatter me, but I hardly believe that I was that interesting. I'm very grateful for your invitation, but I really have to get back into town tonight. Maybe we could meet in Moscow later this week?" Holly replied, struggling to stick to her sophisticated Frenchwoman persona.

"My chauffeur will bring you back to Moscow tonight if that is what is stopping you. I don't think that I'm mistaken when I say that my limousine is much more comfortable than Anna's car."

Anna smiled pleasantly again but cringed inwardly. She took Alexandrov by the arm and they both took a few steps away from Holly. She was maybe grasping at straws, but she had to try one last thing.

"Listen Sergei, Adèle is a very attractive woman, I'll grant you that," she said, nodding toward Holly, "but she's not for you."

A wolfish grin appeared on Alexandrov's lips. "My dear Anna, I can have any woman that I want."

"Not her; she's mine."

They both stared at each other while the meaning of her words sank in for Alexandrov. His smile remained on his lips but disappeared from his eyes. "I'm sure that my charm will prove enough to make her...re-evaluate her preferences."

How crass, Anna though with disgust as he turned away from her.

"It's settled, then. Madame Foissy, if you would please join me in my private living room, I have a bottle of Champagne that is positively dying to be popped open."

Holly did her best to seem delighted, but Anna could sense her panic from across the hall. Her thoughts racing, she watched her walk away with Alexandrov, then ran downstairs as fast as she could. Roger was going to rip her apart.

* * *

Thoughts raged inside her head as Holly followed Alexandrov to his apartments. She was fairly certain that the first thing that Anna would do would be to alert Roger, who would then rush to her rescue, armed or not, and then all hell would break lose. She briefly thought of Blake and her heart sank.

She tried to breathe in deeply and it calmed her down somewhat. Roger had been trained as an agent; he would not react impulsively, she decided. He would find a way to get her out without alerting the whole household, and most importantly. Or maybe it couldn't be done, she thought with a fresh wave of dread. Maybe she would have to defend herself, to fight for her life even. She looked around the room, trying to locate something that could be used as a weapon.

"What do you think of the decor?" Alexandrov asked as he filled their glasses with Champaign.

Holly jumped at the sound of his voice. She forced herself to examine her surroundings one more time. She had to admit that the room was impressive. Navy blues, dark reds and burgundy were predominant in the curtains, the carpet and the upholstery, with even a touch of gold here and there. The furniture was massive and all carved out of dark wood. The most striking feature of the room, however, was the vast fireplace which covered almost an entire wall. A fire was blazing, casting shadows on Alexandrov's clear-cut features. Holly tried to ignore the double doors at the far end of the room, which were partly opened to reveal a gigantic four-poster bed.

"It's very dramatic," she finally replied to Alexandrov's question. She took the glass he was handing her and took a small sip. It was, of course, the finest Champagne she had ever tasted.

The Russian smiled and invited her to sit on one of the chesterfields. "I'm a very dramatic person."

Holly sat on the edge of her seat, grateful that he wasn't trying to drag in his bedroom just yet. She knew that it would not take him much longer, however, and she decided that if no one came for her within the next five minutes, she would have to simply run for it.

"You are a very beautiful woman," Alexandrov added, looking at her pensively. "There is something about you that has mesmerized me from the start. Your eyes, maybe? Or your hair; I can't decide."

"I wouldn't want to mislead you, M. Alexandrov, and I'm very flattered, but I'm seeing someone at the moment."

"And that silky voice," he continued, ignoring her comment at first. He got up and walked to the fireplace. After staring at the blaze for a few seconds, he added. "Yes, Anna has told me of your relationship. I'm not bothered by it."

Champagne caught in her throat and she had to resist the urge to cough it out. So that was what Anna had whispered in Alexandrov's ear in a last attempt to dissuade him. He walked back to the couch and this time sat so close that his thigh grazed hers. He took a strand of copper hair and twisted it around one of his fingers.

"You see, I can make love to you in a way that will make you forget about Anna, about all the others. I can give you the kind of pleasure that you have only dreamed of." She turned to him and the intensity of his gaze upon her was such that she almost felt rooted to the spot. She put her empty glass down and willed herself to get up. She was dizzy and her head suddenly felt like it was made of stone.

"Don't fight it; I know you want it too," she vaguely heard Alexandrov whispered behind her. Before she knew it, he was standing next to her and their mouths locked into a kiss.

* * *

In the dining room downstairs, Azarov was still at the table, polishing the bottom of yet another glass of vodka. After putting it down, his chin fell on his chest and he slowly dozed off. The face of the valet he had just run into kept twirling into his mind, even as he fell asleep.

He had seen that man before, he could swear it, but in totally different circumstances. Where was it? And what was different? Was it the clothes, or the voice, maybe?

* * *

A voice deep within her urged her to push him away, but somehow, she did not have the will to do it. She barely could make out where she was at all anymore, and who was the man kissing her so ardently.

"Roger," she murmured almost inaudibly, giving into Alexandrov's embrace. She became so oblivious to anything but the sensation of his hands roaming on her body that she almost fell flat on her face when he was suddenly yanked away from her by what seemed to her like an invisible force.

She heard her name being called and, though her vision was blurred, she was finally able to make out the silhouettes of two people standing in front of her, while a third was standing with its arms up in the air. Hands grabbed her firmly and made her sit on the couch.

"Her pupils are dilated," a female voice said. She felt a pressure on the inside of her wrist. "And her heart rate is up. He must have slipped something in her drink."

"What did you give her?" a male voice asked. The voice was low but the underlying threat was unmistakable. "Tell me now, or I'll shoot you."

There was a silence and finally another male voice answered, in a slightly mocking way: "A little cocktail; ecstasy mainly, with a few others pleasant substances."

"Fucking asshole. Is her life in danger?"

"Of course not. It just made her, how should I put it, more willing."

There was a growl and the sound of a fist connecting with someone's face. Holly fought to keep her eyes opened, but could only see bright spots of moving colors.

"What are we going to do now?" the female voice spoke again. "We can't leave him here, Roger."

Roger! Holly's heart jolted in her chest. She knew that it meant something good, but what?

"We can't take him with us either. His disappearance will be noticed much sooner than the guard in the basement, and they'll after us like dogs in no time."

There was a cry, and then a dull sound and something heavy collapsed on the ground. "You take Holly with you and make sure the coast is clear. I'll take care of this."

"Understood," the woman said. Holly felt hands under her armpits and she was suddenly back on her feet.

"Can you walk?"

"I think so."

* * *

"Mom! Thank God they got you back! Where is Roger?" Blake cried as soon as Holly and Anna returned. Anna shoved a quivering Holly in the back seat next to Paul, who was still hidden under his blanket, then sat in the passenger seat.

"Don't bother talking to her; she's out of it. Alexandrov drugged her, but she's should be fine in a couple of hours," Anna said confidently, letting out the fact that she only had Alexandrov's word for it. She would have to take a closer look at Roger's wife as soon as they would be out of danger.

"Where is Roger?" Blake asked again, but Paul's sudden cry covered Anna's answer. Curiosity had gotten the best of him and he had pulled a corner of his cover to take a look at the woman who was in such a bad shape.

"Holly!" he said, taking the blanket off and sitting up. "Holly," he repeated, his hand reaching to caress her face. "Anna, what is going on? Why is she here?"

The mix of love, fear and utter incomprehension that Anna read in his eyes made her insides churn. "For the love of God, please go back under the blanket. If you get caught, all of this will have been for nothing," she pleaded, while Blake roughly pushed Paul's head down. "Yes, we didn't put our ass on the line for nothing, Sir."

There were footsteps behind the car and the driver's door swung open. Roger got in and started the car. He resisted the urge to speed off and slowly drove around the house to the main alley. Sweat was dripping from his forehead and his breathing was heavy.

"What did you do with Alexandrov?" Anna inquired.

"I put him on the…"

Roger never got to finish his sentence. There was a sharp noise as the window next to him exploded to pieces, quickly followed by the one by Anna's side. "Everybody down!" Roger yelled as he slammed on the gas. Gunshots echoed through the night and, cautiously turning around, Anna and Blake could see several men running after then, shouting.

"Azarov!" Anna exclaimed. "He must have recognized you after all. Are you okay?" she added, turning to Roger.

His hands were clenched on the wheel, his knuckles white. "I'm fine; the bullet passed right through the car. We won't get that lucky twice," he replied. The car soon reached the main road and Anna directed him to turn right.

"Do you think that they also found Alexandrov?" she asked.

"Maybe. After I knocked him out, I laid him on his bed and scattered a few empty bottles around him. I was hoping that people would believe that he passed out from too much drinking and leave him alone till morning, but maybe people saw trough it anyway."

"Well, they're on to us, so I guess it really doesn't matter how they found out."

Blake put her head between them. "How long until we reach the border?"

Anna and Roger looked at each other. They both knew they would never reach the border in time now that the Russian were so hot on their trail. "Change of plan, sweetie. The Russian will be watching all exits within the hour. Looks like we'll have to hide and fast." He turned off the headlights of the car as he said this.

Blake became pale and leaned back into her seat. "Where are we going to go?"

"In the woods," Anna intervened. "There's a shelter that was built by my secrets services a few months ago not to far from here, in case of an emergency. I think this qualifies."

"What if Alexandrov and Vasiliev know about it? Isn't it they're business to know everything that is going on their territory?" Blake asked.

"I'm fairly certain that it's not the case. My people are very good at camouflage; you'll see," Anna said as she peered into the darkness behind them. Somehow, the Russians had not been able to catch up with them yet. Maybe they were simply too drunk.

Silence fell in the car as Roger sped into the night; Anna was the only one to break it to give brief directions to Roger. After leaving the main road, they had travelled on smaller and smaller roads until they finally reached a beaten trail, the entrance of which was almost entirely hidden by thick bushes. Roger steered the car cautiously into the narrow passage, surrounded by tall and thickly planted trees. It wasn't until then that Blake let out a sigh of relief, for she felt that they were finally out of reach.

She gently poked Paul in the ribs. "You can come out now." The Frenchman soon emerged from his hiding place and his first glance was for the red-head on his left. Holly had fallen asleep as soon as she sat in the car and was still lost into a deep torpor.

"Will someone explain to me what is going on now?" he asked, addressing the other passengers. "Anna, I thought you were working for Vasiliev?"

"Well, I'm not, and I'm not Russian either, as you can certainly hear now," Anna replied with the purest British accent. "We came to save you, Paul. All of us did."

* * *

Ten minutes later, they finally reached the small shelter erected by the MI6. From the outside, it appeared to be an abandoned cabin on the verge of collapse, but inside, it was surprisingly comfortable. The living room area was half of a larger room which also included a kitchen and an office. The only other three rooms were tiny and served as dormitories and a bathroom. There were no windows, only small holes cut into the walls, which were now covered to block the light from leaking out.

After waking Holly up and forcing a bitter mixture down her throat, Anna busied herself at her desk. She took out a shortwave radio from one of the drawers and immediately tried to establish a contact with London. Meanwhile, Blake was alternately nursing Jack, who was resting on the couch with a fever, and her mother, who was now emptying the content of her stomach in the bathroom.

She emerged just as Paul and Roger were entering the cabin. They had hidden the car underground in the hole that had been previously excavated to that purpose. It was covered with a wooden panel, on which Roger and Paul had then scattered pines leaves and dirt.

Holly glanced at the two men and went to sit in one of the armchairs. The others all gathered around her and sat where they could. Blake came in last, holding a pot of coffee and a tray with several cups.

Anna, who was between Paul and Jack on the couch, tossed her blond locks and cleared her throat, "Paul, I know that you've been waiting for an explanation, and I guess I should go first."

"Before you do, I just want to say thank you, to all of you. Clearly, you saved my life, and for that I'll be forever grateful."

Paul looked at Roger as he uttered these words. He already knew that Holly was the one behind this initiative to set him free, but he was having a hard time fitting all the other people into the story. He knew from Jack's admission that he was linked to Holly in some way, but Paul sensed from the way they acted toward another that the relationship was not an old one. As for the young redhead, she obviously was Holly's daughter. Despite the chaos reigning during the escape, he remembered the young woman referring to Holly as her mother, and besides, their resemblance made it certain. Which left Roger. There was a tension between Holly and that man that was clearly noticeable to anyone who bothered to look, and yet there was a closeness that was unmistakable as well. His heart tightened in his chest, suspecting a truth his head still refused to admit.

Meanwhile, Anna was beginning her story. "As you know, I've been acting as Vasiliev's secretary for a few months now. The truth is that I'm working undercover to bring that whole gang down."

"For who?"

"The MI6. I've gathered enough proofs tonight to complete my mission."

"Why would the MI6 want their heads?"

Anna smiled. "That, I can't tell you. Believe me, though, when I say that rescuing you was not part of my original assignment."

"Why did you, in that case? Not that I'm not happy that you did!"

"I don't know. I guess you just grew on me after a while, with your big mouth and your cocky attitude. I admired the way you stood up to these bastards, even if you knew they had you under their thumbs."

Paul nodded and seemed to accept her explanation without further questions. Only Roger and Holly knew what part Anna had kept to herself.

"I had a plan to get you out, and I was about to put it into motion when I ran into my old buddy from the CIA here," Anna continued, pointing at Roger. "He was looking for you too."

Paul turned to Roger, but it was Jack who resumed the story. "You see, Holly and Roger had heard through mutual friends of yours that you were missing, and Roger told me about it. I'm a retired agent as well, and since I had nothing better to do, I decided to look into it."

"O'Hara told me you got caught," Roger explained.

"I thought so."

"You're losing you touch, old friend," Roger bantered.

"Nah, I knew you'd be right behind me, and I was right."

Holly mumbled sullenly at these words, and Jack gave her a sheepish look.

"Yes, you were right. I decided to save your sorry ass," Roger said. "I just hadn't expected Holly and Blake to follow me."

Blake stretched her legs and yawned. Now that the immediate danger had been averted, the whole night took on an exciting glow once again in her eyes. "Come on, Dad, we've been over that with Mom tons of times already. We're here, let it go."

Paul almost gasped and, looking at him, Holly could tell that he was finally getting the lay of the land as his eyes went from Roger to her. She would have liked to break it to him gently and alone, but it looked like she would not have the chance.

"You're Roger," Paul finally said, swallowing hard. "You're the Roger that Holly used to know."

"Yes, I'm THAT Roger; Holly and I have found each other again." He had expected to feel a certain satisfaction in establishing where everyone stood in that story, but all that he could feel was compassion for the man sitting across the room. The pain in Paul's eyes was real and ran deep, and it escaped neither Holly or Roger, and certainly not Anna. Roger's heart went to her as she averted her eyes from the sight of the man she loved in vain.

She got up and forced a cheerful expression on her face to hide the fact that her heart was breaking. "I forgot to tell you, but I was in contact with the MI6 just before you guys came back in. Someone should be here tomorrow morning at the latest. All we have to do is now is hope that the Russians won't get to us first. Those of you who can should get some rest."

"I don't mind sleeping on the couch, and I think that Jack should get one of the beds, of course," Blake said, helping him up. She walked him to one of the room.

Anna turned to Holly and Roger. "You can take the other room. I don't feel sleepy anyway."

"Me neither," Paul said before disappearing outside. After hesitating for a few seconds, Anna followed him.

Holly and Roger stared at each other. "Well, I guess we should go to bed," she finally suggested. Not waiting for him, she headed to their assigned bedroom.


	21. At the Secret Cabin

**The Secret Cabin, Russia**

Anna spotted Paul standing a few feet away from the entrance, gazing at the stars. It was foolish of them be outside, but it was a beautiful night and she did not have the heart to drag him back in after all the months he had spent locked in a jail cell. Instead, she held up a bottle of vodka and asked if she could join him.

He nodded at her sadly. "I guess I could use some of that, thank you," he said, taking a swig directly from the bottle. Anna glanced at his muscular hands, the sight of which she had come to know by heart, while he held up the bottle to his lips.

"I wish you could have been spared that," she said, meaning every word of it.

Paul shrugged. "Which part? The part where I was captured by the Russian mafia, or the part where I realized that Holly will never be mine?"

"All of it," Anna replied gently.

He turned to her and smiled for the first time. "I'm sorry for not sounding more grateful. I am, really."

He sighed and Anna waited for him to go on. "I should have known that she would have remarried. I should have told her how I felt the last night I saw her instead of waiting and writing that stupid letter."

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "Then again, I guess it wouldn't have mattered one way or the other. The only man she ever really loved is Roger. She never stopped, not for one minute. I remember when we used to date, how she would get this faraway look from time to time. I knew then that she was thinking about him, and it drove me crazy, especially since I thought that he had abandoned her with a baby on the way!"

"I'm not sure about what happened between the first time that they split up, but I gathered that there was a big misunderstanding at some point. I can guarantee you that Roger never got over her either. He dated a lot of women, including me, during the years that they were apart, but he never gave his heart away again.

"You and Roger dated?"

"For a few months, but it never got very serious. You see, he would always put a distance between his lovers and him; he would never open up about his feelings. The only time that he did was during one of our nights on the town; we had had one too many and suddenly he started pouring his heart out about that Holly person, and he simply would not shut up about her. I even think that he bawled a little. Needless to say, it was over between us soon after that."

Paul took another swig before handing her back the bottle. "I can imagine. You know what's funny, though?"

"What?"

"As rotten as I feel right now, I'm glad that she at least got married to him, instead of some random man. Had it been any other, it would have been much harder for me to accept. It's much easier to concede defeat when you feel that fate stepped in."

"Because they were destined for each other?"

"Apparently, since they found each other again. In any case, for the first time since I fell in love with Holly, I finally feel a sense of finality about the whole thing. I won't be with her; it's really over."

He cleared his throat and stiffened his back. He could always cry later, he thought.

"So what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. Go back to France, I guess, and become a monk, or hang myself."

"Paul!"

"Alright, alright! I was joking, about the hanging part anyway. All I know right now is that this unrequited love story has come to a close. Whether this will prove to be the end of my entire love life is too soon to tell."

"Do me a favor then and give this monk idea a rest. You'll never meet women in an abbey, I'm just saying."

Paul burst out laughing, and Anna's heart warmed at the sound of it.

"What about you, Anna? What will you do if we ever get out of this?"

"I'll go back to London and report."

He gazed at her and she could see admiration in his eyes. "I can't wrap my head around the fact that you're a secret agent! I thought that you were the perfect secretary."

"I AM the perfect secretary! Not to brag, but I could handle most jobs that you could throw at me. That's what I've been trained to do. I could be a welder if I had to pass as one, and a bloody good one at that."

"I bet you would, but I guess you'd rather continue chasing the bad guys."

Anna's smiled disappeared and she looked dejected. "I don't know about that. My cover was pretty much blown to pieces tonight. Maybe I won't be able to get back on the field after this."

"Oh. I hadn't thought about that. I guess I am the one to blame for ruining your career."

To her surprise, he looked genuinely chagrined. "Don't be silly; it was my decision to save you, and I am very comfortable with that choice. Besides, maybe it's time for me to move on."

"How do you mean?"

Anna took a sip of vodka before answering. "I mean settling down, buying a house and, who knows, maybe I could find a nice chap to share the costs with."

"And have tons of babies. I bet that would have your eyes."

I wish they would have your smile, she thought.

"You know," Paul added, "I am going to miss you when this is all over. You've been a true friend to me. I hope we can keep in touch."

"You better mean it, because you won't be able to get rid of me just yet. For starters, you'll have to come with me to London to testify. I can't force you, of course, but I think that you're as eager as I am to see Vasiliev and Alexandrov behind bars."

"I would gladly swallow the key to their cell."

"Great! Only after that will I let you go back to France and become a priest, or whatever silly plan you have in mind."

"Deal."

* * *

"Is it very painful?" Blake asked Jack as she finished putting a fresh bandage over his wound. She fluffed his pillow and told him to lie down.

"Yes, but I can still handle it. What's harder for me though is dealing with the feeling of helplessness. I'm not too good on depending on others," he retorted with a wink.

"It shows," Blake answered good-humouredly. "I'll leave you to rest now," she added, not wanting to intrude on his privacy any longer.

"No, stay! I mean, if you don't mind. I've been by myself a lot lately, and I could really use the company."

Blake was surprised by the eagerness of his entreaty, but she picked up an armchair resting against the wall and dragged it next to the bed.

"I don't mind. I just figured you out for a loner, with the ranch in Montana and all that."

Jack prompted himself on his good elbow and laughed. "I'm no John Wayne, if that's what you imagined. I just love horses a lot, that's all. I might end up selling the ranch nevertheless."

"Really? I thought it was some lifelong dream of yours to own one. At least that's what Roger told us."

"It was and it still is, but it's a lot of hard work. Not that I mind, but I sometimes I wish that I had someone to come back to at the end of the day."

"Don't you have places that you can go?"

"There a small town about an hour from the ranch, and that's about it. I have to go there a few times a week to run errands, but there nothing really exciting going on," Jack explained, conveniently leaving out the fact that he had slept with most of the attractive women the place had to offer, and that all that awaited him there now were recriminations and a furious husband or two. Trying to imagine Blake's reaction if he told her the whole truth, he suddenly felt ashamed of his behaviour.

"Anyway, as you can see, the ranch is pretty remote, and it can get lonely at times," he concluded.

"Why don't you sell this one and buy one closer to civilization, then?"

Jack grinned at her determined expression. "Ah, the energy of youth! You make it sound so easy! But you're right, I could do that. I'm actually thinking about it; we'll see."

Blake sat up straighter, a little ruffled by his last comment. "I'm not that young, you know. I'm 24."

"Hey, I didn't mean to offend you, quite the contrary! In fact, it looks like your life is in much better order than mine. Your father told me that you've landed this exciting job at What's its name Foundation – "

"Spaulding."

"Right, and when I met you at your parent's wedding, you were dating this young man, I forget his name, but a very dashing fellow, I'll admit."

A cloud passed over Blake's face and Jack suddenly feared that he had put his foot in it.

"Dylan and I have parted ways. It's hard to believe that it was only a few days ago; it feels like weeks already! A lot have happened since then," Blake said, twirling her finger in the air to indicate their surroundings.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that. He seemed like a great guy, and you're much too young to be broken-hearted."

He playfully ducked his head under his arm, expecting her to yell at him for referring to her as "young" again, but she just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"What makes you think that he dumped me? Sometimes the girl gets tired before the boy does, although you wouldn't know anything about that, from what I hear," she slammed.

Jack opened his eyes in surprise and raised his hands in apology. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have assumed."

"I'll have you know that I've never been dumped in my life!"

"Okay, okay! You don't have to get worked up over this! I was just making conversation. Jeez!"

Blake grumbled some more before calming down, while Jack stared at her with an amused look in his eyes. She was a firecracker that one, just like her father, and probably a little like her mother too.

"You're right though; Dylan is a great guy. I just wished that I could have loved him as much as he deserved, but it's always the same problem with me. I always feel like there is something missing."

"I know what you mean," Jack replied, and he truly did. He could not recall ever having experienced that special feeling everyone kept yammering about. With the passing years, he had come to the conclusion that there must be something wrong his heart, something that made it impossible for him to fall in love.

As if she read his mind, Blake echoed his thoughts. "It's as if I have a missing part, you know? The little piece that will allow me to finally fall for someone."

Jack chuckled quietly; it was refreshing to discover that someone shared what he considered to be his biggest flaw, and who was not ashamed to voice it out loud.

"To the risk of angering you again, it might still happen for in love, I mean."

"Because I'm so very young, I know. You're not that ancient yourself, by the way."

"I'm 36, so it means that I'll be turning 40 in four years."

"I can count, thank you. It's not THAT old," Blake said evenly, but Jack could see in her eyes that she felt that it was very old indeed, and it rattled him. "You still look good for your age," she added, unable to resist teasing him in her turn about his age.

The truth was that Jack was probably one of the handsomest men Blake had ever laid eyes on, but she had never really dwelled on that fact, mainly because she was with Dylan when she had met him at her parents' wedding, and because she had pegged him for a womanizer. She toyed with the idea of flirting with him, just for the fun of it, and then chided herself. Her father would definitely frown upon the idea of her putting the moves on his best friend. Instead, she decided to return to the subject at hand.

"Sometimes I even wonder if love really exists," she said while undoing her ponytail. Her hair fell into soft coppery ripples on her shoulders. She quickly gathered it up again and tied it in a loose bun. "If it weren't for my parents, and I mean my two sets of parents, I would think the whole think is a fabrication."

She looked at Jack expectantly and he realized that it was his turn to talk. For the last seconds, he had been fascinated with the sight of her hair being done and undone, and was wondering what it would feel like to run his fingers through her locks. Probably like silk.

"Right, yes."

Blake stared at him before getting up. "You have no idea what I've just said, do you?"

"I do! You were talking about your parents, all four of them, and about how much they love each other," Jack said hurriedly.

Blake smiled. "Yeah, they do. Anyway, you look like you're getting tired; I'll leave you to rest."

"Thanks for the talk," he replied before putting his head back on his pillow and closing his eyes. He heard the door close and let out a loud sigh. What had just happened there? What was he thinking, lusting after his friend's daughter? He tried to shake the vision of her smiling face as she taunted him about his old bachelor ways. He WAS too old for her.

And yet.

There was something so refreshing about her. She was smart and self-confident, without being conceited. What's more, he knew that she liked nothing more than a challenge. He felt like a life by her side would be anything but dull. He groaned out loud at the idea of Roger accepting him as a potential son-in-law. "When hell freezes over," he told himself.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door and Roger opened the door. Jack felt his cheeks burning and to hide his embarrassment, he pretended that Roger had just waked him up.

"Roger! I thought you were sleeping already."

"No, I felt too restless to go to bed just yet, so I stayed in the living room for a while. I'm sorry to wake you; Blake told me not to come in, but I just wanted to check up on you."

"I'm fine. Now, why don't you tell me the real reason why you're not cuddling your wife as we speak?"

Roger pursed his lips and collapsed in the armchair that had been occupied by his daughter moments ago. Jack briefly wondered if she was asleep on the couch already, and whether or not she was comfortable.

"You owe me, buddy! Because of you, my wife won't speak to me," Roger said, rubbing his face. He was exhausted, yet he couldn't face the thought of spending the night next to Holly if she was to be keeping up her ice queen act.

"Right, how convenient to pin everything on good old Jack!"

"If you would have stayed put instead of running to Paul's rescue, then I wouldn't have had to leave her in the middle of our honeymoon to save you. She's really bummed about that, you know."

"She's mad because you left her alone, or she's mad because you put your life in danger?"

Roger cocked his head pensively. "The latter, I guess."

"And can you blame her?"

"Not really."

Jack rolled on his side and closed his eyes. "Why don't you just go and talk to her about it?" he muttered. "I'm sure that she's come to thaw toward you since you came back to her safe and sound."

"Well, there might be something else," Roger explained, determined to air out all of his marital problems with his friend. Jack sighed and opened his eyes.

"What is it?"

"I really gave her grief about wanting to rescue Paul at first. I couldn't understand why she cared so much."

"You mean you were jealous?"

Roger shrugged impatiently, annoyed that his friend could read him so well. "Wouldn't you be? He still loves her, you know."

"Yes, I did pick up on that earlier, but as long as she doesn't love him, then I don't see what the problem is."

"She slept with him and she didn't tell me about it!"

Jack sat upright and opened his eyes wide in surprise. "God! Really? I'm sorry, man. When was this?"

Roger suddenly felt ridiculous and wished that he had not brought up the subject. "Ten years ago," he finally mumbled.

Jack's expression remained frozen for a few seconds, and then he gave his friend a nasty look. "You mean that you won't let me sleep because your wife slept with a man a decade ago and didn't tell you about it? What else did she not tell you? That fifteen years ago, she had eggs benedict for breakfast? Sometimes, you're just too much."

Roger stared at Jack and the latter could practically see ruffled feathers grow on his back. "Well, she could have mentioned it when his name came up, or say, when you, my best friend, decided to risk your life for him."

"It wouldn't have made any difference to me. And it shouldn't to you either. Tell me, how many women have you slept with in your life, Roger?"

Roger had the decency to feel embarrassed; it would have been a difficult task to make an inventory.

"That's right; we're talking high numbers here. I was around after Peggy divorced you, remember?"

"What's your point?" Roger asked curtly.

"My point is that I'm fairly certain that you didn't tell Holly about all these women."

"She knows that there has been a few."

"But she doesn't know the details, and I'm sure that she doesn't want to, because it's not relevant to your relationship."

Roger grunted but let the words sink in. Holly had told him the same thing before they had parted ways in Helsinki. Yet he was aggravated that none of them seemed to sympathize with him. Surely he could not be completely in the wrong?

"I'll grant you that, but then explain to me why she was mad when she discovered that Anna and I have been lovers," he asked triumphantly.

Jack thought about it for a few minutes. He didn't know Holly very well yet, but he knew from the moments they had passed together that she was a sensible woman, and he felt inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Is it possible that she was mad at you because you had done the exact thing that you were reproaching her of having done? Hiding a past relationship, I mean?"

Roger's face fell. "Is it too much to ask for you to be on my side?" he said, getting up.

Jack couldn't help but laugh at his expression. "Come on, Roger! I am on your side, and I know that the best thing for you is to talk things out with Holly as soon as possible. It's not a question of being right or wrong; married people fight all the time, that's just the way it is."

"If you want me out of your hair, you can just say so."

"I want you out of my hair."

Roger made a face and opened the door. "Fine, I'll go. Goodnight anyway,"

"Goodnight, and Roger?"

"Yes?"

"It was nice talking to you again." The two men looked at each other and grinned, and then Roger left Jack to sleep.

* * *

Seconds later, he closed the door of the room where Holly and he were to sleep and realized that she had been waiting for him. They looked at each other awkwardly, unsure of how to act toward one another. Aside from the bed and a couple of wooden chairs, the only other furniture in the room consisted of a rug, a lamp and a scratched dresser. Roger walked up to it and started to unbutton his shirt, while vainly trying to think of a good opening for his apology.

"Are you still dizzy?" he finally asked instead.

"A little, but I'm much better now. I don't know what Anna gave me, but it was effective."

"Good. I guess we should get some sleep," Roger said, clearing his throat. More than ever, he felt the invisible wall that was now between them, and it made him oddly self-conscious. He was even thankful for the fact that the lamp only gave out the faintest of lights, making the room shadowy and dark. Trying to shake off his nervousness, he took off his shoes and pants, which he put on top of the dresser with his shirt. After all, he reflected, Holly was his wife, and intimacy had never been a problem for them, at least until now. They had to find their way toward one another.

He turned around, now in his boxers, and jumped as he bumped into Holly, who had been silently undressing as well behind him. They both stood facing each other in their underwear, contemplating each other. Holly was the first one to break the silence.

"I know that I've been a little cold toward you lately, but I've missed you," she said, running her fingers on his chest timidly.

Somehow, this was all the invitation Roger needed. He took hold of her and kissed her softly. They toppled on the bed, only to spring back up again, startled by the awful squeaking sound coming from the mattress.

"What is this?" Holly said, panting half from shock and half from desire.

"Broken springs, I would say," Roger replied, equally out of breath. "I guess that settles our fate for tonight," he added forlornly, now that he knew that they would be forced to spend a platonic night.

Holly came up behind him and pressed her body against his, only adding to his regrets. "If we're very careful, we won't wake them."

"Holly, you heard the bed; it's going to take them about two seconds to figure out what we're doing," Roger said, trying to be reasonable.

Holly grasped his shoulders and spun him around. "I can't wait anymore, Roger, and I don't want to. We've been apart to long already."

"But what about-?"

She put a finger on his lips to silence him. "It doesn't matter," she simply said.

The words floated between them before sinking into Roger's heart. It didn't matter if Paul was in the other room or hundreds of miles away. None of their past affairs mattered. All she wanted was to be with him, her husband. Meanwhile, Holly looked around and spotted one of the wooden armchairs that had been pushed against the wall. She led Roger to it and made him sit before she kneeled in front of him, ordering him to be quiet.

She kissed him on the lips before making her way down his chest, leaving a trail of kisses. Motioning him to lift his hips, she swiftly slid his boxers down his legs and tossed them aside, knowing she would find him hard for her already. Unable to wait any longer, she slid her tongue up his shaft while he inhaled sharply, grasping both arms of his chair so hard that his knuckles turned white. Then she took him in her mouth, her tongue twirling slowly around his cock, and grabbed it firmly with one hand, while with the other she cupped his balls, just strongly enough to make him moan with pleasure.

Never in his life had Roger wanted to shout his wife's name more than he did in that moment.

Exerting his last remains of self-control, however, he kept silent, and for the next few minutes, all that could be heard in the room was his ragged and erratic breathing. Holly gradually increased her rhythm, feeling her own arousal mounting inexorably. Before she knew it, one of her hands, as if with a mind of its own, sled down her own body and inside her panties. She vaguely wondered if the effects of the ecstasy had not totally worn off after all. Opening his eyes, Roger discovered his wife getting herself off while giving him head, and the picture made him want to explode right there and then.

"Holly, I'm near…" he murmured urgently, his words morphing into an almost painful groan as he caressed her head, but Holly only acknowledged him by increasing her pressure.

"Holly!" he repeated, now half-pleading and half-warning, while his hands plunged down her curls and clutched at them hard. He then realized that this was one of those times when she would not pull away until he was done and after a few more seconds, he leaned back into his chair and climaxed violently.

"Oh, God," he called out in a low voice a few minutes after, feeling as if he was coming to. He looked down at her and saw that she was smiling at him. She was about to get up when he rested his hands on her shoulders and kneeled down beside her.

"Wait a minute, I'm not done with you," he said, pushing her hair away from her face. He put an arm around her slender waist and pulled her close so that she could lean into him, then wedged a knee between her thighs, forcing them apart.

He slipped his other hand over her stomach and reached for her panties, which he slowly started to slide down her legs. "Rip them out," he heard her murmur against his neck. He took hold of the hem and gave a hard pull, feeling the lace tear between his fingers. He then began to lightly caress the small of her back and her inner thighs, his fingers never stopping on her skin for more than a few seconds. She waited; she was willing to let her desire slowly rise up again, knowing that his touch would be that much sweeter when it would come.

He finally reached between her legs, and found her slippery from desire. Her hips started to move rhythmically as soon as he slid a finger inside of her and found her clit with his thumb. "Oh, Roger, yes!" she said, throwing her head back, answering the question he did not even need to ask. Yes, she wanted it, and yes, he was doing it so right.

"Take off your bra," he commanded, feeling himself grow hard again and aching for her to be completely naked. She removed it with trembling hands and threw it aside, exposing her breasts. Bending over her, he took one of her nipples into his mouth, his tongue mirroring the movement of his thumb and leading Holly into a state of frenzy that only he could relieve her from. As his eyes met hers, almost delirious with lust, Roger was tempted for a second to lay her on the floor and to take her, but he knew from the way she dug her fingernails into his skin that she was too close to orgasm from him to stop. Closing his eyes, he increased the pressure of his fingers until he felt her whole body starting to shake uncontrollably, a fine layer of sweat covering her skin. He went on relentlessly, whispering words of love in her ears, to which by then she could only answer incoherently. Then after one last flick, one hungry bite on the shoulder, she collapsed in his arms with a shiver and a strangled cry.

They rested against each other for a few seconds; Holly's head nestled against Roger's shoulder.

"I've wanted to do something like this since I walked out of that hotel room," Roger said, running his lips over her neck. "I'm sorry that we fought, Holly."

"Me too." There was so many things that she wanted to say to him, about how much she had been scared of losing him, and how proud she was that he had rescued Jack and Paul, that she barely knew where to begin. Instead, she hugged him tightly, pressing her entire body against his. It was only then that she realized how aroused he still was, so when Roger motioned her to get into bed, she lay down on the floor and gazed at him expectantly instead. She wanted him that night like she never had before, and her invitation could not have been clearer.

Roger joined her on the floor and entered her in one swift motion, finding her still wet from her recent orgasm. He started to move slowly in and out of her, following the rhythmic pressure of her legs wrapped against his back. Holly closed her eyes and gave into the sensation, lips parted and hair spilled on the floor like liquid fire. Thrusting deeper and deeper into her, Roger gradually became overwhelmed with a need, like he had never experienced before, to reach her very core. As if sensing his urge, Holly snapped her eyes open and took in the vision of his features twisted in a desire that was almost painful, and which echoed her own. She pulled him to her and began whispering in his ears, spurring him on, each of her sentences punctuated by a thrust of her hips:

"I love you, Roger…and I want you to have all of me…and… oh, God!"

Roger silenced her with a kiss and a guttural groan; he grabbed the foot of the bed for a better grip and started to pump fiercely into her. Holly pressed herself against him, two tears of joy escaping her eyes. It did not take long for her upper body to jerk upward and her sex to clench convulsively around his, sending them both over the edge.

They lay one on top of the other, their limbs intertwined, until they regained their breath. "I think Russia agrees with our sex life," Holly finally said, a smile playing on the corner of her lips. Roger nodded and smiled in return.

"Come to bed now," he said, picking her up and carrying her to the bed, which welcomed them with another ear-splitting squeak, and where they immediately fell asleep. They knew that words would come later, but for now, the wall that had been standing between them only moments ago now lay in ruins on the ground, conquered.


	22. Loaded Gun

**Springfield**

"Is he going to come out or what?" Ethan wondered out loud. They had been waiting for ten minutes since Mallet had knocked on the door, and he was not sure how much more he could be able to stand.

He peered once again at the container where Harley, Mallet and their colleagues were hiding, only to be yanked back by David.

"Don't you go and do anything rash, now."

"It's easy for you to say! I'd like to see how you would be handling it if Cat was the one in there."

"We don't know that Jess is with him for sure," Dylan said in a soothing voice.

Ethan was about to retort when a small but distinct creaking sound came from the alley.

"He's coming out!" Samantha muttered.

It took Ethan every drop of willpower not to peer over the edge of the wall. He would have given anything to be hiding next to Harley so that he could see what was going on.

* * *

Harley cursed inwardly as she saw Daniel emerged from the storage unit, holding a terrified but silent Jessica at gun point. At least she looked unharmed, the policewoman thought to herself.

After making sure that the alley was empty, Daniel pushed Jessica toward the car. Mallet and Harley did not budge, but prepared themselves to spring from their hiding place when the right moment would come. Their window of opportunity was of about twenty seconds; there would be no second chances.

Jessica climbed into the trunk and Daniel put a sheet over her before closing the lid.

"Now!" Mallet shouted, and the six policemen emerged from behind the container, aiming their gun at Daniel.

"Drop your gun and step away from the car, Daniel," Harley added. Instead of obeying, however, Daniel quickly directed his gun toward the trunk. "I don't think so," he said with a nasty smile. He barely looked surprised.

Great, the crazy kind, one of the officers standing behind Harley thought.

"Daniel, listen to me. There is no use trying to escape now. You won't able to keep your gun on Jessica if you want to reach the wheel of your car and leave, and believe me, as soon as you take your arm off of this trunk; we ARE going to shoot you."

"Unless you surrender," Mallet added in the same stern voice.

The doctor scoffed. "Why would I do that? My life will be over if you catch me. Samantha will want nothing to do with me if I get arrested, and that's all that really matters to me."

"She won't want to be with you after this, whether you escape or not. Can't you see that?"

"That's not true. If you don't catch me, you'll never be able to prove that I was the one behind this, and I'll still have my chances with her."

Harley glanced at her fiancé and shook her head imperceptibly. There was no use arguing anymore; the man had become completely deluded. This was the type that she hated the most because there was no anticipating what their next move would be. They might have to let him go and call for reinforcements to intercept him farther on the road. It was risky, but it was even riskier to try and disarm him with Jessica so close at hand.

"I'm not afraid to kill somebody; I've done it before. Not with a gun, with pills, but I wouldn't be afraid to use this either!" Daniel said, and to prove his point, he raised his gun and shot into the sky, startling them all. Before anyone could take advantage of the situation, he quickly brought the gun back toward the trunk and started laughing.

The shot was more than Ethan could handle, however, and as Mallet and Harley had feared, he ran into the alley, shouting his girlfriend's name. "Don't you hurt her!" he yelled, and his voice broke as tears ran down his cheeks. Daniel stared at him, unsettled, but did not budge.

"Get back, Ethan," Mallet said.

"I won't! Take me instead, Daniel. I don't care! Just let her go," Ethan pleaded with the doctor.

"No. If someone has to leave with him, it's me."

A hush fell over the alley as Samantha walked into view. Even though she was trembling, everyone could see the determination on her face. Not even Dylan had been able to dissuade her from coming out, and she had made him swear not to follow her, as the sight of him would certainly take Daniel over the edge. Daniel stood still as she walked toward him, his mouth gaping slightly.

"Honey," he finally said. "You came for me."

Samantha put on a brave smile and replied. "That's right, baby!" Her enthusiasm rang false, but Daniel did not seem to notice. "And we're going to go away, you and me, just as soon as you let that girl out of that trunk."

Everyone held their breath as they waited for Daniel's answer. "You would do that? You would go away with me?" The hope in his voice was pathetic, and Ethan almost pitied him. Almost.

"I would."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere."

Daniel smiled and pure joy spread across his features. She loved him; he always knew deep down inside that she did.

"That's good, honey, because there only one place that we can go now," he said.

For Harley, the next second seemed to pass in slow motion, and suddenly she knew exactly what Daniel was about to do. Like she knew he would, he took the barrel of the gun away from the trunk and turned it toward Samantha.

"Samantha, get down!" Harley screamed before firing her gun twice toward the doctor. Her shots were followed by two others from someone behind her, and Daniel slowly collapsed on the ground, the expression of bliss still frozen on his face. He had died on the spot.

* * *

Everyone gathered at the Bauer's house that night; Ed, Maureen, Ethan and Jessica, of course, as well as Dylan and Sam, David and Cat and even Harley and Mallet. The formalities had been all been taken care of at the police station, Daniel's body had been dispatched at the morgue and Jessica had been allowed to return home after a thorough check-up from Ed at Cedars.

The young couple appeared to be glued to each other as everyone sat around the kitchen table devouring hot fudge sundaes, which was Maureen's infallible recipe against tragedies, even averted ones. To Ethan's dismay, however, he could still feel the same distance between Jessica and him as when she was in Europe, and he wondered if she had come back to him just to say goodbye. Whenever he had managed to catch her gaze that day, which was not often, he had not been able to read the expression in her eyes.

"I still can't believe how brave you've been, sweetie," she said as she caressed Jessica's blond hair.

Jessica coloured. "Well, I don't know about that; I just tried to stall him. I figure that this was the wisest course of action, giving the fact that he clearly had decided to kill me."

Samantha shuddered at the thought of Jessica losing her life on her account, and Dylan squeezed her hand.

"Still, you kept your cool, and that's pretty rare," Mallet intervened. "Most people would have panicked in your situation."

Harley nodded in agreement. "Mallet is right, and I'm very impressed with you. Are you sure you're not interested in becoming a police officer?" she asked half-jokingly.

"I'm flattered, but I'd rather see blood on the operating table than in the streets, thank you."

"And your composure will come in handy as a neurosurgeon also, believe me," Ed said.

There was a short silence as everyone ate their ice cream, while thinking about what might have been if Daniel had put his threats into execution.

"Since everyone is here, I wanted to take the opportunity to apologize," Samantha said after a while in a small voice.

"Whatever for?" David asked, puzzled.

"For bringing this man back into your lives. If it wasn't from me, he never would have returned to Springfield, and none of this would have happened," she explained, and a lone tear ran down her face. Dylan and Cat, who were closest to her, both hugged her as the others looked on, moved by her grief.

"It's not your fault, Sam," Cat said. "He was crazy. Let's just be grateful that nothing worse than this happened."

"I know," Sam retorted between fits of sobbing. "And I'm ashamed to say that I'm relieved that it did happened, because now he's dead and I won't ever have to look over my shoulder again in fear."

"It's okay to feel that way," Harley said reassuringly. She had seen her share of victims of abuse; she couldn't blame Samantha for being glad it was over.

"I just wished that it would have been me instead of Jessica inside the car. I never would have forgiven myself if something had happened to you. Never!" Samantha said vehemently.

"I don't hold you responsible for Daniel's actions; I want you to know that. And when you walked out of behind that wall, you saved my life."

"Yes, that was very brave of you," Maureen said to Sam.

"And reckless," Mallet could not help adding before Harley nudged him in the ribs.

"You know what else I think?" Jessica added. "Maybe fate did us all a good turn by allowing Daniel to mistake me for you. You might not be sitting here tonight if he had kidnapped you instead."

They all shivered at the thought; for they knew that she was probably right.

"Nevertheless," she continued with a little smile, "I'll never wear a red hat again for as long as I live!"

"Hear, hear!" Ethan said as he raised his mug of tea, and everyone raised their glasses in unison.

"There are also a few things that I'd like to say before everyone goes," Jessica declared solemnly after the toast. "First of all, I'd like to thank Harley and Mallet. You two have been more than great."

The couple bowed their head and smiled at each other.

"And second of all, I would like to thank Ethan for putting you on my trail. Thank you for sensing that something was wrong."

Ethan pressed his forehead against hers. "When I woke up this morning and realized that you hadn't shown up yet, I just knew that something must have happened to you."

"What I don't understand, though, is how Daniel could have mistaken you for Sam. I know you were both wearing the same hat, but still, you two look nothing alike!" Ed exclaimed.

"I had my back turned when he grabbed me, and I had tucked my hair under my hat, remember? I wanted to surprise Ethan at the end of the show and…" Her voice trailed off and again Ethan noticed the unsettled expression into her eyes.

Very slowly, a nagging suspicion formed into his mind, sending a shiver down his spine.

"I still find it hard to believe that nobody saw him take you. The place was packed!" Ed continued.

Jessica swallowed and looked at her hands. "That's because I was waiting in the back scene. There's a corridor leading to the changing rooms, and that's where I was."

Doubt morphed into certainty for Ethan, and he realized that Jessica had witnessed him kissing Erica the night before. He suddenly wished that he could make everyone else go away so that he could explain himself to her. Instead, he had to wait politely for another hour until the last remaining guests, Dylan and Sam, finally took their leave.

They went upstairs with Ed and Maureen, and before the older couple went to their room, Maureen turned to them and said: "I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about, but make sure to get some rest, okay?" She resisted the urge to point out that the guest room was available if Jessica felt like using it, but she refrained from doing so. Tonight was not a night to spend alone, especially not for Jessica.

Ethan and Jessica nodded and disappeared into Ethan's room. He closed the door behind them and decided not to beat around the bush. "You saw me with Erica last night, didn't you?"

Jessica sat on the bed and rubbed her temples. "Is that her name?" she simply asked, whereby confirming that she had indeed caught him with another woman.

"I know that it sounds lame, but I can explain. I mean there's no excuse for what I did, but…"

Jessica put a finger over his lips and shook her head. "Not tonight, Ethan. I can't take anymore drama today; we can talk about all of this tomorrow morning." More importantly, I can't face confessing to you too tonight either, she added inwardly.

She kicked off her shoes and lay on the top of the bed, fully dressed. After hesitating, Ethan turned off the lights and joined her, and they were soon asleep.


	23. On the Move

**The Secret Cabin**

Everyone woke up with a start the next morning and sighed in relief when they realized that they were still in one piece. Besides Holly and Roger, they had all slept badly, and their dreams had been filled with visions of gangsters, shattered car windows and broken hearts.

Anna was the first to get up, and, after putting her cot away, she started making breakfast for everybody. Blake followed her soon after and busied herself by setting the table. "What are we having?" she asked the agent.

"Nothing fresh, I'm afraid, but it's better than nothing," Anna replied, holding up a pack of chocolate chip pancake mix. "We also have dried fruits and nuts."

"Can't wait," the redhead replied sarcastically before turning on the coffee maker. Waking up was not her favorite part of the day, and waking up knowing that the Russian mafia was on her tail, well…that was enough to make anyone cranky, right?

* * *

Meanwhile, Holly and Roger were still lounging in bed, unwilling to tear away from each other just yet. "I understand now what the fuss was all about," Holly said as she ran her hands on Roger's chest.

"What do you mean?" Roger replied, hugging her tight.

"Make-up sex. It really is deliciously good."

Roger laughed and planted a kiss on her forehead. "It is, indeed, but I'll gladly settle for "normal" sex if it means that you're not mad at me anymore."

"I'm not, and normal sex is just as great."

"And for the record, I'll really try not to get jealous about anyone else from your past from now on, I promise. It's just that I'm new at this thing, and I'm still learning, so you'll have to bear with me."

Holly shot him a puzzled look. "New at what?"

"At dealing with my significant other's past relationships."

Holly buried her head in the crook of Roger's elbow and laughed.

"Come, on, Roger," she finally said, "surely this has happened to you before? I hate to point it out to you, but you're not exactly a teenager anymore."

Roger clutched at his heart and pretended to sob. "Thank you for reminding me that I'm officially middle-aged, honey. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome," Holly replied with a wide, mischievous grin.

"And even though I'm just an old man, I never cared about anyone enough to be bothered by their ex-lovers. Anyone except you."

They gazed at each other and Holly ran a finger over his lips before kissing him. "That's a very sweet thing to say, but I'd rather you get over that jealousy thing anyway, because there is no man that matters to me but you. Please, please, get this into that beautiful thick skull of yours."

"Working on it as we speak!"

"Good, and as for me, I promise not to get mad at you for doing what you think is right," Holly offered, referring to his decision to rescue Jack. "Your loyalty is one of the things that I admire most about you, and I shouldn't have tried to make you change your mind."

"Well, I'll admit that this was not an easy situation. Who would have thought that my best friend would have found himself in mortal danger alongside your ex-fiancé?"

"Fortunately, it's not likely to happen again."

"I should think not. Not during our honeymoon, anyway," Roger concluded with a wink and a kiss on her lips. He pushed the comforter away and pulled her out of bed. "Let's go, we're getting rescued today, remember? We have to be ready!"

* * *

The others were already seated when they emerged from the bedroom. Besides Blake and Jack, they all felt the awkwardness of the situation and threw themselves into meaningless chitchat to cover their embarrassment. Roger went straight to the coffee maker, where he was soon joined by Jack.

"I see that you and Holly made up." he said with a knowing look.

Roger glanced at him in surprise as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "How did you know?"

"The look of adoration on her face couldn't be clearer and besides, you guys were really going at it last night," Jack said with a raised eyebrow.

Roger choked on his first sip and he put his cup down. "You heard us?" he whispered into his friend's ear, mortified at the idea that his daughter might have heard them as well.

"No, but you just confirmed what I was wondering. Good for you, man!" Jack said as he patted Roger on the back.

Roger gave his friend a nasty look, while Jack grinned broadly. "Very funny, Jack."

Jack's smile faded and he looked earnest. "Seriously, I'm glad for you, and a little envious too, if you must know the truth. It must be nice when someone loves you that much."

Roger glanced at his wife and could not help but smile. "She does love me, and I'm simply crazy about her. I do wish that it might happen to you one of these days, but I'm starting to give up hope. You're not getting any younger!"

"I haven't met the one yet, what can I tell you? Not everyone gets to meet the love of his life at twenty-five."

"Twenty-three."

"Yeah, rub it in."

"Maybe you're too picky." Roger briefly looked behind them and muttered "What about Anna, for instance?"

"What about her?"

"She's smart, funny, not to mention gorgeous. I'm sure that you two daredevils would get along great."

"First of all, I'm would bet my life on the fact that she's in love with Paul. One doesn't simply risk one's life to save a stranger if one doesn't care for that person."

"Are you trying to tell me that you're in love with Paul too?" Roger said mockingly, but Jack didn't skip a beat.

"That's different; I'm crazy. And to get back to Anna, she is very attractive, that's true, but I'm not especially eager to go where you, my friend, have gone before."

"Fair enough." Roger refilled his cup of coffee before heading back to the table. "I'm afraid that I don't have any other blond amazon up my sleeve, however, so you're on your own." Jack leaned against the counter and took a sip of coffee. Redheads might be more up my alley anyway, he thought as he glanced at Blake pensively.

There was a static sound coming from the living room and Anna rushed over to the short wave-radio. She hurriedly picked up the headphones lying on the desk and put them on.

"Yes, I hear you…No sign of them…In the clearing...Roger that….Over and out."

She went back to the kitchen to fill in the others. "Good news, there is going to be a military helicopter waiting for us in a clearing not too far from here in about ten minutes. We have to get moving right away because it won't be able to remain in the area long without disclosing our whereabouts."

Having brought nothing with them, they left the cabin immediately. The sun was shining brightly outside and it promised to be a hot day, but fortunately for them, the trees provided them with a welcomed shade – and protection from prying eyes. There was no proper path leaving to the clearing, and they all walked in line behind Anna, who seemed to follow directions that no one else could understand. After a few minutes, she stopped abruptly and motioned the others to be silent.

"Do you hear that?" she asked.

They all shook their heads until a faint rumble could be heard from afar. "They're here." They broke into a job and soon reached the edge of the clearing, where they spotted a helicopter hovering over them. As soon as Anna waved in its direction, a rope ladder appeared.

"Jack, since you won't be able to use both your arms to climb the ladder, you'll come in last. Just hang on tight and we'll pull the ladder back up," Anna commanded.

Blake was the first to hoist her way up, followed by Holly, Anna and Paul. Roger was about to follow when a movement at the other end of the clearing caught his eyes. He turned and peered into the forest, but all was now still, and the noise from the helicopter made it impossible for him to hear anything else. He quickly climbed up and signalled to Jack, who took hold of the ladder.

"Hey, look over there!" Blake cried, pointing at the exact spot where Roger had looked before. Men were emerging from the forest and running toward them.

"Vasiliev!"

"And Alexandrov; Jack, hang on tight!" Roger shouted while starting to pull up the ladder. Paul quickly picked one side to give him a hand and between the two of them, they were able to lift Jack into the helicopter before they became within shooting range of the Russians.

Anna closed the door behind them and tapped on the pilot's shoulder for him to take them away. As they soared past his ex- bosses, Paul couldn't resist giving them the finger. "Assholes," he muttered under his breath.

"That was close!" Holly yelled to cover the sound of the engine while pointing at the fast receding ground. Several cars were parked outside the cabin, while men were evidently searching the area. They all looked at each other and grinned; they had made it!

* * *

An hour later, the helicopter landed at a small and remote airport.

"Where to now?" Paul asked as the six of them walked away from the helicopter.

"Now, we're taking the plane over there," Anna said as she steered them in the right direction. "It's been cleared to go straight to London, don't ask me how."

A man was waiting for them at the foot of the boarding stairs, and he greeted Anna effusively. "Good to see you in one piece, Anna! I hope you brought some interesting souvenirs from Russia."

"The best," Anna replied with a wink before entering the plane. It was a spacious private jet and the passengers rejoiced at the idea of finally being able to relax after the last eventful couple of days. Jack was especially thrilled and he ordered a double scotch only to fall fast asleep immediately after.

The others gathered around the bar and decided to make a well-deserved toast, even if it was barely noon.

"To true friends," Paul said to each of them, "I will never forget how you saved my life."

"And to Alexandrov and Vasiliev," Blake added, "May they go straight to hell!"

Anna patted the pocket of her jacket and smiled. "If I have anything to say about the matter, that is exactly where they're heading. The first order of business when we land will be to get Jack into a hospital. Then Paul and me will go to the MI6 headquarters and hand over the proofs that Holly and have gathered. As for the rest of you, I'm sure that you are in dire need of some rest, and it would make me very happy if you would all stop at my country house in Sussex for a few days. Jack can join you as soon as he gets out of the hospital."

Roger and Holly consulted each other silently before Holly accepted Anna's offer. The honeymoon might as well wait for a few days more.

They all settled in their respective seats after that, and most of them fell into a light slumber, since it would take them at least four hours to reach London. Holly, however, was feeling restless, and she soon noticed that Paul had wandered at the end of the cabin. Carefully getting up, she walked up to her old friend; she had been putting off that conversation long enough.

"Hey," she said tentatively.

"Hey," he replied with a sad smile.

"Come here," she said, and she pulled him into a long hug. "I'm so happy that you made it out of there alive! Thierry and Catherine will be so glad to finally hear from you. They were the ones who told me about your disappearance when I saw them in Paris a few weeks ago. You can thank them for setting this whole adventure in motion."

"I can't wait to see them," Paul retorted, with a real smile that time. He glanced at the front part of the cabin pensively and Holly followed his gaze toward Roger.

"About Roger…" she started, but he interrupted her.

"You don't have to explain, Holly."

"I just want you to know that he never abandoned me like I thought he had. It was all a big misunderstanding. He makes me very happy now."

She could see that her words were hurting him, but she felt that he needed to hear from her that friendship was the only feeling that could exist between them.

"Did you ever get my letter?"

Holly coloured a little and nodded. "I did. It was a beautiful letter, Paul, but…"

"I know that you don't feel the same way, and I think that I always knew that Roger was the only one for you, but I'm glad that I wrote it anyway. I was sure at that time that I would be dead within the month, and the thought of you was the only thing that kept me going. For that, I'll always be thankful that you came into my life."

He gazed at her; his big brown eyes shining with tenderness, and she suddenly felt like crying at the unfairness of it all.

"I so do wish that you could find someone who will love you as much as you deserve, and that you will love too."

"I don't know that this will be possible, Holly. I've loved for you too long now; I'm set in my ways."

Holly shook her head. Surely there was a way for him to be happy, he just could not see it yet.

"Look, Paul, I don't pretend to know what's in your heart, but we've been apart for so long! Don't you think it's possible that you've been in love with a dream more than with the actual me?"

Paul tried to hide the bitterness in his voice before replying. "You and Roger had been apart for even longer than that, and yet you two never stopped loving each other. If I could change the way I feel about you, I would, believe me. Unfortunately, love is not a switch that can be turned on or off whenever we feel like it."

Holly nodded softly. "I know. It just makes me sad to see you in pain because of me, when I care about you so much! I wish there was something that I could do, but I guess I'm the last person you would want to hear romantic advice from right now."

Paul chuckled in spite of himself. "I'll pass on that indeed, thank you. What I need right now is a change of scenery." He looked straight into her eyes. "That, and to be away from you. You're even more beautiful than the day we met, and I just can't stand not being allowed to touch you."

Holly ran a hand in her hair and sighed. "Fair enough. Just don't shut yourself off on my account forever, alright? I think that there is someone out there who would be more than willing to spend a little more time with you."

Paul shrugged and looked through the window. Seeing that he was not even remotely interested, Holly decided to be more direct.

"I mean the woman who just put her career and her life on the line to save you."

This time, Paul turned to her, obviously stunned.

"Are you talking about Anna?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes , Anna!" Holly exclaimed, exasperated by his dimness. "And I heard all that you just said, about love not being a switch that you can turn on and off, but don't you think that a woman like Anna is worth investigating a little?"

Paul opened his mouth but Holly shook her head. "You don't have to answer me. Just promise that you'll think about it." She gave him one last squeeze of the hand and returned to her seat next to Roger.


	24. A Good Mate is Hard to Find

**Anna's cottage, Sussex.**

"WHAT?" Roger practically yelled into the phone receiver, making the rest of the family jump in surprise.

Blake and Holly both put down the plates they were bringing from the oven to the kitchen table, while Jack, sitting in a rocking chair with his arm in a sling, closed his book. All three stared inquisitively at Roger, who was too engrossed in the conversation to notice.

"How could this have happened? Who did this to you?" he went on to ask frantically.

At the other end of the line, Jessica let out a sigh. "Dad, calm down! How I am supposed to explain if you won't let me talk?"

It was the morning after she had been rescued, and she was still in Ethan's room, with her boyfriend by her side. She heard her father take a deep breath and ask her if he could put her on speakerphone for the other ones to hear.

"Sure," she said, thinking that it would prevent her from having to repeat the dreaded story. She then proceeded to recount her kidnapping, Daniel's obsession with Samantha and how the police, as well as her friends, had finally rescued her. All the while, there was dead silence in the cozy little kitchen in Sussex, as Holly, Roger and Blake listened in horror. Even Jack, who had known Jessica since she was a teenager, could not repress a shiver from going down his spine.

"Oh, God, honey!" Roger exclaimed as soon as she was finished. "I'm so sorry that I wasn't there to save you from this creep. I swear that if he wasn't dead already, I'd…"

"Dad, I appreciate what you're saying, but it's over now, and there's nothing that you could have done to prevent this."

Holly put a soothing hand on Roger's shoulder. "She's right, Roger. Don't torture yourself over this."

Still, Roger's features were twisted in pain. To think that he could have lost her, after fearing for the lives of Blake and Holly, was almost too much to bear. "Well, I'll tell you what, sweetie, you're coming over here right now, or else we're all coming back to Springfield! I won't believe that you're really fine until I hold you in my arms."

There was a little quiver in Jessica's voice as she finally let herself be touched by her father's concern. She didn't have to be so strong anymore, she realized, and she could allow herself to be emotional now that the danger had passed. "I'd like that. Where are you exactly? Ethan said that he tried to reach you in Finland but that you had left without a forwarding address."

Holly and Roger glanced at each other with a fresh wave of guilt. They silently agreed on the spot that it would be best to tell their children the story of their misadventure in person. "We're at a friend's cottage in England. We meant to call you sooner," Holly finally explained.

"You don't need to justify yourself, this is your honeymoon. Speaking of which, I wouldn't want to intrude on your romantic trip."

Jack and Blake shifted in their seats uncomfortably, but Holly looked at them with a twinkle in her eyes. "We already have guests, honey. Blake is here, didn't Ethan tell you?"

Jessica glanced briefly at Ethan, who shrugged. "We didn't get around to that."

"Of course, I understand. Jack is here also; he paid us a surprise visit. Do please come, all we want right now is for the whole family to be together."

"Won't your friend mind?"

"Not at all! She left us the cottage for a few days," Blake explained, speaking for the first time. Anna and Paul had indeed remained in London, where they were busy debriefing with the MI6. "Come on, Jess, pack your things and get down here already!"

Jessica laughed at her sister's imperative tone. "Okay, okay! I surrender!"

She promised to book her flight as soon as possible and hung up.

"I never thought I'd be back in Europe so soon after leaving it!" she said musingly, turning to Ethan. Instead of looking at her, the young man sat staring at his hands and murmured "Yeah, fancy that."

After a few seconds, he got up abruptly and turned to her. "What I'd like to know, however, is if you want me to go there with you or not?"

* * *

**Springfield**

"They're your family too, Ethan, or course they want you to be there," Jessica finally said in a soft voice.

"But do you?"

Jessica sighed and patted a spot on the bed beside her. It was high time that they had their talk. Knowing that Ethan was racked with guilt, she decided that it would be easier for both of them if she explained herself first.

"Have you noticed how things got different between us when I was in Europe?" she began.

"Yes. It seemed to me like you had changed, or like I wasn't exciting enough for you anymore," Ethan replied sadly.

"Oh, Ethan! I'm sorry if I made you feel that way, really I am. It's just that everything was so new and so fresh to me over there, and you weren't there to experience it with me. And then I think I got a little bit carried away…"

Something in her voice made Ethan turned to her. "What do you mean?"

Jessica coloured in embarrassment. "There was this teacher…" her voice trailed off and she hid her face in her hands. Suddenly the whole story of her encounter with Christian felt like a horrible cliché.

Dread threatened to overcome Ethan, but he forced himself to remain calm. "You mean that you had a crush on him? Or that you fell in love with him?"

Jessica straightened up and he could see tears running down her face. "For a moment there, I didn't know what I felt. I was so confused, Ethan, I'm so sorry!"

Ethan swallowed hard before answering his next question. "What happened?"

"He kissed me, but that's all. I told him that I needed time alone to figure out my feelings, and that I needed to see you. And then I came back to Springfield and I found you kissing another girl!" Jessica said before breaking down again. "Who is she?" she asked between sobs.

"She's the singer of our band, or at least she was. I don't know what's going to happen about that."

"Are you in love with her?"

"No!" Ethan replied earnestly. "It was only one kiss. I was feeling elated after the show, and frustrated at the same time that you weren't there by my side, while there she was, right in front of me. She had been very supportive of me all these last weeks when I was afraid that you were cheating on me; she was actually interested in what was happening to me."

Jessica sighed at the not so subtle implication that she had let her boyfriend down.

"I'm sorry I made you feel like I wasn't interested in you anymore," she said in a flat voice.

Ethan took her hands in his and stared into her eyes. "Look Jess, I'm not trying to excuse what I did. It was wrong of me to kiss Erica. I'm just trying to explain to you how it happened. I still love you, I never stopped. Now, I need to know if you feel the same, or if you're in love with that other guy."

Jessica stared at the ceiling and tried to quiet her beating heart. "When I saw you, on that scene, playing your songs, I felt like I never loved you more than at that moment, Ethan. Yes, I was attracted to that other man, but it was only a fleeting thing. What I feel for you is the real thing."

Ethan let her words sink in before a smile dawned on his lips. "Does this mean that you forgive me?"

Jessica smiled warmly in return. "I think it means that we are forgiving each other."

Not able to wait any longer, Ethan took her in his arms and kissed her fervently. They both fell on the bed and embraced passionately, feeling as if they would never get enough of each other's touch. Ethan was frenetically trying to pull Jessica's summer dress over her shoulders when she finally stopped him.

"Ethan, we have to stop," she commanded, out of breath.

"I don't think so," he replied, running his hands along her thighs, making her moan. She shook him away playfully and got up. "Yes, we do. We have a plane to catch, remember?"

Ethan sat and shook his head to recover his spirits. "I forgot about that. They're paying for the tickets, right?" He asked before following her down the kitchen to break the news to Ed and Maureen.

* * *

"I still cannot believe what happened to Jessica!" Blake exclaimed as they all sat down a few minutes later for dinner.

"Who would have thought that Daniel St. John would have turned out to be such a basket case," Holly added, shuddering at the mere idea of being held at gun point by the crazed doctor.

Roger uncorked a bottle of red wine and shook his head. "Ladies, don't get my blood boiling over this again, please! Ethan and Jessica are fine and on their way, and that's all that matters. Let's just enjoy this meal that you prepared for us, which by the way smells delicious. What it all this?" he inquired, peering at the numerous plates spread on the table.

Holly smiled and started taking the lids of the serving dishes. "On tonight's menu: a mutton stew with oregano and sautéed wild mushrooms, a roasted red pepper and tomato potage and finally, a red and yellow beet salad with fresh goat cheese. The dessert is a surprise!"

Roger stared at the food, a little taken aback. "Wow, you really outdid yourself this time!"

Holly looked slightly ruffled. "When are you going to realize that I have gotten better at cooking?"

"Jeez, I don't know honey, maybe when my stomach recovers from all the burned food that you fed me earlier this year."

"You do know that I don't actually HAVE to cook for you, do you?"

Roger grinned broadly. "I sure do, which is why I have been doing most of the cooking up until now!"

Holly was about to retort when she was interrupted by Jack. "Ah, marital bliss," he said in laughter, soon joined by Blake.

"Alright, we get the hint; no more arguing," Holly said as she raised her hands in surrender.

"As if you could stop yourself," Blake said with a fond gaze.

"It doesn't mean that I don't love your mother to death, you know; just her cooking," Roger replied, unable to resists throwing one last arrow in his wife's direction.

"That you love each other is pretty obvious indeed," Jack said after swallowing a mouthful of beet salad. "Was it love at first sight for you two? You never did tell me about that part, Roger."

Blake sat up straighter, also eager to hear what her parents had to say about the subject.

Holly took a sip of her wine and put the glass down on the table. There was a twinkle in her eyes when she replied. "I think that for me it was, although I couldn't forgive myself at first for falling for such an arrogant young prick."

Roger opened his eyes wide. "Arrogant, me?"

"Come on, Roger! You were full of yourself back then, admit it!"

"Okay. I admit it."

"And I was just a distraction to you at first."

"Ah, but a gorgeous one! You see," he said, turning to the others, "I had never seen such a beautiful girl in my life. Here she was, at her father's house by the pool, in a yellow bikini, when I first saw her…I was speechless."

"So what are you saying, Dad? That at first you were only attracted to her physically?"

Roger reflected for a minute. "No, it was more than that. She made a strong impression on me, only I didn't know yet what it meant. You see, I didn't know what love felt like before I met your mother, so it took me a while to figure out that this is what I was experiencing."

"Nice save," Jack said with a sardonic smile.

"I'm not lying!" Roger exclaimed.

Holly grabbed his hand over the stew and cocked her head with a smile. "He's telling the truth. I could feel him falling in love with me as weeks went by. I think this was the best summer of my life."

They looked at each other and Blake and Jack suddenly felt invisible. The latter cleared his throat loudly to bring his friends back to the present. "I guess it must have been quite a shock when you ran into each other again after all these years."

"I'll say! I felt like I was going to faint right in the middle of the country club," Holly said.

"There are no words for what I felt at that moment, really. Let's just say that I'll never forget it, for as long as I live," Roger added simply.

"But enough about us!" Holly said as she walked to the fridge to get the dessert. "How about you, Jack? Don't you have someone special waiting for you at home?"

"Nope, I'm free as a bird," Jack replied, and Holly thought that she could detect a pang of sadness in his voice. She put an enticing tiramisu on the table and started to cut it.

"It sounds like the bird wishes to find a mate to nest with."

Roger scoffed. "I highly doubt that; Jack hasn't been able to stand the same woman for more than a month, and I'm being generous!"

"Give me a break, pal," Jack replied a little more curtly than he would have wished. His friend's words stung him bitterly, especially in front of Blake. "We're not all as lucky as you are, you know."

Roger frowned and apologized, surprised by Jack's reaction. "I'm sorry if I made you sound heartless. Tell us, then, what the perfect woman would be like to you."

Jack could not help but briefly glance at Blake before beginning. "She would have to be caring and kind, spontaneous and full of energy. She would also speak her mind and not let me get away with any crap."

"Do you think such a woman exists?" Blake asked, completely unsuspecting that Jack was actually describing her.

"I'm sure of it," he simply replied before taking a huge bite of tiramisu. "Oh, yeah, and she would have to be red-hot too!" he added with a smirk which made them all laugh.

"Red-hot, huh? Well, what do you know," Holly murmured as her eyes went from Jack to Blake, who were still making fun of each other. She was the only one who had noticed the mysterious light in Jack's eyes as he gazed upon her daughter.


	25. Black

**Anna's cottage, Sussex**

Ethan and Jessica arrived two days later and many days of celebration ensued. After the initial shock of learning their family's Russian adventures, the young couple soon started to enjoy into their vacation in England. It took a little longer for Jessica, who from some time still woke up every night in cold sweat, having dreamed of Daniel, but her uneasiness gradually disappeared as her family spared no efforts to make her feel loved and secure.

For the first week, the whole group was inseparable. They went to the market, to the village or to the museum and came home to prepare extravagant meals. After that, they almost imperceptibly fell into a different routine. The group naturally split into three; Roger and Holly went for longer excursions, often stopping to spend the night at an inn along the way. Ethan and Jessica spent most of their days hiking and exploring the area, and would come back all flushed from exercise. This left Blake and Jack, who spent most of their time idling in the garden, reading and chatting about themselves and the world in general.

Blake had even taken upon her to take care of Anna's flower garden, which was in a story state since the owner was almost never at home.

"I wouldn't have pegged you for the botanical type," Jack said one day as he was lounging on a deck chair, watching her prune a rosebush. His healing arm forced him to rest at home for most of the day, and though he wasn't used to being idle, he enjoyed Blake's presence immensely. He never knew the next thing that would come out of her mouth, and he had also discovered a caring side of her that she kept hidden to most of the others. He never had to ask for a blanket, or a glass of water, for she seemed to anticipate his needs. As the days went by, he longed more and more for the chance to repay her kindness by taking care of her in his turn. However, every time his mind would wander in that direction, it would soon be jerked back at the thought of Roger, his best friend. How would he ever believe that his feelings for his daughter had grown to be genuine? And were they, for that matter? Jack was still confused when it came to that point. Was it just another of his infatuations? It felt like more, but this was not a case where he could take any chances.

"I take after my father," Blake answered, as if reading his mind.

Jack frowned. He had shared an apartment with Roger in Paris for several months, and all of the green plants he had insisted on purchasing were dead within the first week. Blake caught his puzzled expression and started laughing.

"I meant my other dad. We had a huge backward in San Francisco, and we had all sorts of flowers growing. He really had a green thumb; we had lemon trees, fig trees and even avocado trees!" she said with an obvious tenderness in her voice.

"You must miss them terribly," Jack replied. Roger had filled him in on the car accident that had taken the lives of Blake's adoptive parents a few years ago, leaving her an orphan.

"I think about them every day," Blake stated simply. "Sometimes I think that they were the one who drove Holly and Roger back into my life. To take care of me, and to love me as they had loved me. It must sound silly to you."

"Not at all; I have seen stranger things happen," Jack replied with a smile.

Blake got up from her knees and wiped her forehead. The bush had now been reduced to a decent size. "I feel very lucky that I get along with Holly and Roger so well. It's nice to finally know where I got this red hair, and this temper, you know!"

"And this wonderful sense of humour," Jack added in an admiring tone. He gazed at her with an intensity which unsettled her, although she could not understand why. She was about to reply when they were interrupted by the arrival of Jessica, who had just came back from yet another hike.

She glanced at them silently for a split second and then sat at the garden table with a tall glass of water. "The weather is gorgeous, don't you think?" she finally asked.

Jack stretched lazily then got up. "Absolutely. I think I'll go for a little stroll by the lake while the sun is still out. I'll be back in time to make dinner. Will Holly and Roger be here tonight?"

Blake shrugged good-humouredly. "They didn't call to say that they would spend the night somewhere else, so they should be back soon. See you later!" She turned to the next rosebush and started snipping away at its branches, whistling.

"So," Jessica asked matter-of-factly after a while. "What are you going to do about Jack?"

"What do you mean?" Blake replied, genuinely puzzled.

"Surely you've noticed that he's in love with you?"

"What? No, Jack is just flirting, you know how he is!"

"Yes, I do know. In fact, I've known him a lot longer than you have, and I can tell you that this is more than flirting."

Blake put her shears down and went to sit next to her sister. "Wow, this is…unexpected."

"How do you feel about him?" Jessica asked, getting excited by the subject.

"I don't know."

"Come on, Blake, you must have some idea! Do you find him handsome or gross?"

"Well of course he's handsome! Have you seen him? He looks like a model! And he's nice, and smart, and funny…" her voice trailed off as she thought of all of Jack's qualities. "But he's also a ladies' man."

Jessica furrowed her brows. "That's true, but as I said, I think he has it bad this time. And why shouldn't he? You're obviously not in awe of him; I think he likes that. The only real problem that I could see would be Dad's disapproval."

Blake ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "He wouldn't like it."

Her sister nodded. "That's the understatement of the year."

* * *

Blake had never been one to beat around the bush, and armed with that new information, she decided to confront Jack right way. She left Jessica in the garden and went in search of him. She found him watching the sunset by the lake behind the cottage, where she knew was his favorite spot.

"It has been brought to my attention that you might have feelings for me. Romantic feelings," she said bluntly as she sat beside him.

Looking straight ahead, Jack inly grunted in reply.

"I don't speak Grunt, I'm sorry."

"You should; it's a very poetic language."

"You're avoiding the question."

"I'm not; it meant no comment."

Blake stared at him in surprise. Until then, she had not really believed that Jessica could be right, that Jack could actually have feelings for her, but she was now seriously starting to wonder.

"You DO like me!" she said, blushing uncontrollably.

Jack finally looked at her, and winced inwardly as he noticed the last rays of the sun catching the coppery highlights of her hair. "It doesn't matter what my feelings are."

"Why do say that?"

"Because I will not pursue those feelings. I respect you too much, and your father, to start playing with your heart."

Blake's heart sank a little at his last words and at the cold tone which he used to utter them. "Who said anything about playing?"

"We've been over this before, Blake! I'm not capable of making a long-term relationship work; I never could! I will end up hurting you, and I will be the jerk, once again."

"You know, it's funny how you automatically assume that you'll be the one doing the hurting. Has it ever crossed your mind that it might be the other way around? That I might be the one who gets tired of you first?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably, for it had not crossed his mind. He realized how arrogant he must have sounded. "You're right, it's entirely possible. Then again, I don't see how this makes this relationship more viable."

Blake moved from Jack's side to sit in front of him. "What makes this project viable to me is that I've never been this contented with someone. Didn't you like the last few days that we spent together? I feel like I can be totally myself around you, and each moment that we spent together is so simple, and yet magical too. I never did anything about it because I really sincerely did not think that my feelings might be mutual."

"Blake, you shouldn't be saying this!"

"Why not? That's what's in my heart. Don't you feel it too?"

Jack gazed into her eyes and felt something thrill inside of him. Before he could stop himself, the words stumbled out of his mouth. "I do like you a lot, Blake. I've never felt like this either, but I'm scared that it won't be enough to make this relationship work."

"The same can be said about any love story, Jack. We won't know unless we try. If you're willing to give it a real try, and not treat this as another one of your flings, then I'm game too."

"I've been thinking about you too much for it to be just a fling, Blake. I even rehearse things that might say to you to impress you or to make you laugh when I'm alone in my room at night." He laughed and wagged his finger at her. "What have you done to me, you little witch?!"

Blake reddened under his gaze, which was now openly tender. "So what now?" she asked in a low voice.

"You really want to do this?"

"I think so."

"Okay then," Jack said before starting to get up.

Startled, Blake grabbed his hand so that he remained where he was. "Wait, where are you going?"

"To see your father."

"WHAT? What for?"

Hesitating for just a second, Jack ran his hand through her hair, like he had wanted to do so many times already, and a tremor of pleasure ran over his body. "Your father means a lot to me. I've never really been close to my family, and he's been like a father, a brother and a best friend all rolled up into one for me. I need to know that he's okay with this before I can even consider taking our friendship to the next step."

Blake threw her hands in the air in despair. "Well then forget it! Do you think he's ever going to agree with this if you give him the choice?"

Jack cradled her chin in her hands and forced her to stay still. "Then I'll just have to ask over and over until he says yes, won't I? It's just something that I have to do, Blake."

"If you must," she said with a small pout, while secretly happy with the way he had chosen to handle things. She leaned toward him and brushed her lips against his, and she was about to put her arms around his neck when he gently but firmly pushed her away.

"Don't you want to?" she asked, puzzled.

Jack laughed. "Oh, yes, more than you know, but I don't want us to rush into things. I want us to be sure that this is what we really want before we…make love."

"Alright," Blake replied, but before he could move away, she pulled him into a long, burning kiss that left him panting for air. Then she got up and shook the sand from her shorts. "Just a little incentive to get this business with my father settled as soon as possible. See you later!"

* * *

Note: For those wondering at the chapter's title, I've always liked when people would mix the names a couple to form a new word, like Matessa, or Jeva, or Rolly. And to continue the tradition, I've decided that Blake and Jack would be Black!


	26. Lessons Learned

**Anna's cottage, Sussex**

"What would you say if I asked your daughter out?" Jack asked Roger. The two friends were sitting on the veranda that same night, just before dinner; Roger reading a novel and Jack strumming his guitar. He had been working up the nerve to broach the subject for the last two hours.

"I wouldn't say anything; I'd kill you," Roger replied, not taking his eyes of his book.

Jack picked a few more notes before putting the guitar down. He got up and went to the icebox to grab a couple of beers, then went back to his hammock, handing one to Roger.

"You're serious, aren't you?" Roger said, finally shutting his book and putting it down next to his chair.

"Pretty much."

"And might I assume that you're referring to Blake?" Roger asked, even though he was fairly certain of the answer.

"Of course. I've known Jess since she was a girl. I'm not a pervert!" Jack cried, looking offended.

"You let me decide who's a pervert around here, alright? I've seen the way you've been staring at my daughter for the last few weeks. I just never thought that you would be suicidal enough to actually go after her."

Roger's voice was low but Jack could feel his anger smoldering under the surface. He felt his own temper rising and took a deep breath; now was not the time to antagonize his friend.

"Would it be so bad if Blake and I dated?"

"It sure would! You're about twice her age!"

Jack could not help but scoff. "No offense, buddy, but I'm not your contemporary. I'm thirty-six. A twelve-year age difference is not unheard of, and Blake is very mature."

"Whereas you're definitely not."

Jack's first impulse was to throw beer in Roger's face, but, reflecting that it would prove his friend's point about his lack of maturity, he abstained from doing so.

"I really like her, Roger," he simply said instead. "For the first time in my life, I really feel like I've met someone that I could build something with."

Roger shook his head, even if deep inside he had to admit that Jack seemed to be in earnest.

"You're going to break her heart; I can't have that."

"Do you think that I would risk losing your friendship? I can't promise that it's going to work out, but I can promise that I will treat her right."

Roger sighed and grabbed his head. Before he could answer, Holly popped her head from inside the house.

"Dinner is ready, you two!"

She immediately caught on the tension between the two men, and looked questioningly at Roger. The latter only shook his head as if to say that he would feel her in later.

* * *

Later that night, Holly was making her way from the bathroom to her bedroom when she found Roger standing in the corridor, in front of Blake's room.

"What are you doing?" she asked, even though she had a pretty good idea already. Roger had filled her in about his conversation with Jack immediately after dinner.

"Standing guard," Roger replied without really meeting her gaze.

Holly rolled her eyes and dragged him back into their room. She sat him on the bed and straddled him so that he would not be tempted to go back out.

"Sweetie, I don't understand why you're so set against Blake and Jack seeing each other. There is nothing much that you can do about it anyway; Blake is a grown woman who can make her own decisions," she said to Roger as she caressed his hair.

"But he's so much older than she is! He could be her grandfather!" Roger exclaimed grumpily.

"Stop exaggerating, will you? He's what, eleven, twelve years older than she is? It's not ideal, but it's not dramatic either. If he really cares for her, then it doesn't make any difference at all!"

"You don't know Jack like I do! He's not the type to fall in love and settle down. He's been with more women that I can count while we were with the agency."

"Oh, you mean around the time when you were doing exactly the same thing?" Holly asked with a raised eyebrow.

Roger opened his mouth then closed it again. Whenever they were arguing, his wife had the knack to point out the flaw in his reasoning. It drove him crazy, and yet he could not help admiring her for it.

"Fine! I guess it's possible that he could really have feelings for her."

"And she for him! When she came to Finland after breaking up with Dylan, she was seriously starting to wonder if she ever was going to genuinely fall in love with a man. I can see in her eyes now that it is happening, and I'm glad for her."

Roger looked at his wife dubiously. He still found it hard to reconcile himself with the situation. "What if he hurts her?"

Holly rolled her eyes and bent over her husband to kiss him lightly on the lips. "We don't have any control over that. People hurt each other, even when they love each other to death. From what you told me about him, however, it doesn't seem like he would do it on purpose."

"I guess."

"And who knows, maybe Blake is the one who will tire of him first. She hasn't exactly been a model of constancy when it comes to men, has she?"

"She could change."

"So could Jack! So there."

Roger rose in hands in surrender and laughed. "Alright! I give up! Come here, you," he said as he pulled her closer. "I just want the best for all of my women; that's all."

"And I love you for that. Don't worry about it, okay? Jack is your best friend and a very decent man; you've told me yourself how much you esteem him. Now it turns out that he has feelings for our daughter; don't you think it's wonderful?"

"I don't, but I'll try to get use to the idea, I promise."

Holly sighed inwardly but was not overly worried. She knew that in time, not only would Roger get used to the idea, but he would love the fact that Jack was in his daughter's life. If the relationship lasted, of course, but somehow she had a good feeling about that part.

She bent over him and kissed him a little more deeply than the first time. In response, Roger grabbed the small of her back and pulled her hips against his lap.

"I'll try to get used to it," Roger repeated between kisses, "but you can't force me to be a witness to their little romance."

Holly backed her head in surprise. "You're not going to ask them to leave, are you?"

Roger grinned and Holly could see a mischievous spark in his eyes. "I wouldn't dream of it; besides, Anna invited them here, I didn't."

"Then what do you mean?" Holly replied, more and more puzzled.

"I mean that it's high time that you and I picked up our honeymoon where we left off." He pulled her back to him and buried his face right between her breasts, inhaling deeply. "It's been nice to spend a few weeks with the kids, but I want to be alone with you now."

"I see," Holly replied with a seductive smile. "We could leave tomorrow if you want; the rest of them will all be going back to the States in a few days anyway." She ran her hands down his back and tried to pull his shirt off, but he stopped her.

"I have a better idea. Why don't we just take off right now? We just pack our bags, take the car and go straight to the airport!" he said excitedly.

Holly gazed at his face for a few seconds. "Are you serious? To go where?"

"Wherever we want! We can catch the next available flight to whatever destination looks appealing to us. What do you say?"

They stared at each other before bursting into laughter. "I say yes! Of course!" Holly finally answered. She pushed him gently on the bed and leaned over him for another kiss.

"I love you," she whispered afterwards.

"And I love you too, more than ever. I've been meaning to say this for some time, but I'm glad that this whole thing with Paul happened. It made me know you better, and I feel closer to you now that I did before we started on this trip."

"I feel the same," Holly said, welling up. She was proud of the way they had handle all of those feelings that sometimes come with being in love: anger, jealousy, lack of trust. Their relationship had been tested, and she knew that it was now even stronger than when they had said their vows a few months ago.

"Should we wake up the kids to say goodbye?" she finally asked, resting on top of him.

"We'll call them tomorrow from wherever we landed," Roger answered with a grin. He took her by the waist and rolled her under him. "There's one last thing that I have to do before leaving here, though," he murmured while running a hand up her thigh.

"Really, what's that?" Holly said playfully while undoing his belt.

"I really have to take you out of this lovely little dress and I have to cover every inch of your body with kisses," he said, unzipping her dress as he spoke. "And then, when you can't stand it anymore, I will take you and make you come until you beg for mercy."

Holly felt her heat race and bit her bottom lip. "Sounds like a plan."


	27. Epilogue

**Hawaii, 8 months later**

It was yet another gorgeous day on the Big Island, and Holly enjoyed the balmy air on the front porch of the villa before getting inside. She dropped her grocery bags on the table and called out for her husband.

"I'm on the patio, honey!" she heard him reply.

With a smile, she kicked off her sandals and crossed the big, lofty kitchen, and the equally spacious living room. The patio doors were wide opened, letting in a gentle breeze that swayed the long curtains. Holly let a sigh of satisfaction before going back outside. It had been love at first sight for Roger and her when they had visited the villa eight months ago, and they had never regretted renting it on the spot.

Roger was already at the BBQ, flipping the salmon filets they would be eating in a little while. She walked up to him and pressed herself against his back. "Hi," she whispered in his neck.

He lifted an arm so that she could snuggle under it and resumed his watch of the sizzling fish. Feeling wetness against his arm, he turned to Holly and noticed her damp hair. "Did you go for a swim?" he inquired with laughter in his voice.

Holly looked vaguely sheepish and nodded. "The waves looked so tempting," she explained, "that I couldn't resist parking on the side of road and jumping in for a second before coming back home."

"Naughty girl," Roger said as he kissed the top of her head. He closed the lid of the BBQ and took her at the far end of the patio. The view did not fail to take their breath away, even if they should have been used to it by now. Below them, a few steps led to a beaten path lined with exotic flowers and bushes, which in turn led straight to their private beach.

"I wished you would have used our beach instead; at least I could have enjoyed the view," Roger added with a wink.

"We can always go back after dinner if it's still warm enough," Holly replied. "Speaking of dinner; let me fetch the things that I bought for the salad."

She disappeared briefly and came back with the grocery bags, a knife, a chopping block and a huge bowl. She put it all on the table got to work. Roger sat beside her and took hold of a mango, which he started to peel and then slice.

"I can't believe that we've been here for eight months already," he said pensively, focussing on his work.

"I know, soon it will be time to go back to Springfield," Holly added with a little sigh.

Her mind went back to the night they had practically fled the cottage in Sussex to get their honeymoon back on track. Once they had arrived at Heathrow, they had briefly stared at the electronic board listing all the flights available before settling for Hawaii. They had wanted something exotic, and yet felt like going home, so the destination made sense to them.

At first, all they had wanted after the turmoil in Russia was to spend some quiet time together. They spent their afternoon on the beach with a good book and dined in. They went to bed early but feel asleep late in each other's arms. Most of the time, they simply talked, filling in the other about their life before they had been reunited. After a few weeks, they had started exploring their surroundings and had even made some friends among their neighbours. It would be hard to let go of this little piece of paradise, Holly thought, but knowing that they would get back to their children made their departure easier to bear.

As if reading her mind, Roger dropped the mango pieces in the bowl and said: "It will be good to see the kids. I know they're doing well, but I miss them."

"I spoke with Ethan this morning; it looks like he is going to ace his semester this time. He's been getting better grades than ever. He was as proud as a peacock," Holly said, laughing at the recollection.

"Now that he dropped out of his band, I guess he has more time to focus on his studies," Roger replied.

A shadow passed in Holly's eyes, which did not go unnoticed by her husband. "What is it, honey?"

Holly shook her head. "Nothing important, really. It's just that Ethan loved this band so much that I can't help but wonder why he quit. I was very surprised when he did, especially since his friends decided to go on without him."

"Did you ask him?"

"Yes, but he was very evasive about it. He only said that it was the best solution for everyone involved."

"Maybe he had a fight with David or Nate. It happens all the time, just think about John Lennon and Paul McCartney!"

Holly grinned and pretended to pinch him. "I don't think that's it, they seem to get along fine, but…"

"But what?"

"I know that they hired a girl to sing with them in the spring, and I wondered if maybe it didn't have something to do with her."

Roger raised an eyebrow. He had seen the promotional pictures of the band that Ethan had sent them earlier that year, and he indeed recalled a very pretty young woman behind the microphone. Suddenly, he felt his humour sour.

"You don't think that he cheated on Jess, do you?"

Holly took one look at him and which she had kept her mouth shut. "Don't get all Godfatherly on me, okay? I don't know if something happened between them, but I do know that when Jessica and Ethan came to join us in England, it was obvious that they had just been through a rough patch.

"Yeah, because of the kidnapping."

Holly shook her head again. "No, there was more to it than that. Ethan had been hinting in the weeks before that Jessica had been taking her distances from him, and I think that he was afraid that she might not love him anymore."

Roger cringed at the thought of her daughter's love life but forced himself to let go. "Well, whatever happened between them, they obviously have been able to resolve it. They sound very happy together on the phone."

"I think they are. In fact, Ethan told me about something and said that he would like to talk to you about it also, when you have a minute."

Roger paled and he felt the knot in his stomach returning full force. Surely he had not heard right. Holly witnessed his pastiness and could not refrain from smiling.

"He hasn't proposed to her, if that's what you're thinking."

"I certainly hope not; they're barely twenty!"

Holly put a calming hand on his forearm. "I know, and I told him not to rush into things, but he is thinking about taking an apartment and asking Jess to move in with him." She decided to omit the part about Ethan's plan to propose later that year if all went well. Roger was upset enough as it was.

Roger grunted. A part of him wanted to resist the fact that his daughter was going to leave him, but the other was relieved that he and Holly would be able to settle down by themselves at her house. "I guess they know what they're doing," he simply replied.

Holly winked at him. "I doubt they do, but then again who does, really? You just have to jump and hope for the best."

"Like we did."

"Exactly." They gazed at each other for a while, and felt a familiar desire rise within them.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Roger said with a husky voice as he took her hands and helped her up.

"What about the fish?"

Roger walked up to the BBQ, still holding her hand, and turned it off. "Screw the fish," he said, and started to take off her dress.

* * *

The sun was almost down when they woke up in their bedroom a few hours later. Holly sat up, her empty stomach growling. She turned to Roger and realized that he was already awake. He circled her waist and pulled her on top of him, searching for her mouth. They kiss languorously for a few minutes before she pulled away.

"I want to watch the sunset with you. Come on!"

He followed in the kitchen her good-humouredly and put a robe on. "Grab some cookies," he said before going to the patio. She soon joined him with a tin of chocolate chip cookies and they sat down side by side on the steps leading to the beach. They silently watched the sun firing up the horizon as it slowly sank into the sea.

"Isn't it the most wonderful view in the world?" Holly asked with a sigh after it was all over.

Roger stuffed a cookie in his mouth and nodded emphatically. He couldn't help but notice that with each passing day, Holly seemed a little more melancholy at the thought of leaving. He decided to change the subject in an effort to cheer her up.

"I had a letter from Anna this afternoon," he finally managed to say after swallowing his mouthful.

"How is she doing?"

"She's doing great! She just came back from a mission, which was a success as always," Roger said with a smile at the thought of the happy-go-lucky agent.

"I'm so glad that she didn't lose her job after that mission in Russia."

"They would have been fools to fire her, even if she did bend a few rules. It was because of her and Paul that Alexandrov and Vasiliev are behind bars now."

"How is Paul? Did she mention him?"

"Ha! She talks about nothing else! He's been tagging along for the ride ever since they left for London."

"Do you mean that they're together?" Holly asked, holding her breath.

Roger nodded. He felt truly happy for her friend and the possibility of Holly being jealous did not even cross his mind. He had put that fear to rest ever since that night at the secret cabin.

"She said that it took a lot of time for him to make a move, but that ever since London he had been looking at her differently. In fact, she said that she felt like he was seeing her for the first time."

"I'm glad."

Roger looked at his wife a little more closely. "You wouldn't happen to have something to do with that, would you?"

Holly reddened and pursed her lips in embarrassment. "Maybe."

"What did you do?"

"I had a talk with him in the place from Russia. I spilled the beans; I told him that Anna loved him and that he would be a fool to let her go."

Roger burst into laughter and kissed her on the cheek. "I thought that it might be something like this, because Paul added a hand written note at the enf of the letter, saying that he was more grateful to you that you would ever know."

"It was the least that I could do, seeing that I had already found the man of my dreams." It was her turn to lean toward him for a lingering kiss.

"Anna has decided to hand her resignation, and that can only mean one thing where she's concerned," Roger resumed.

"What?"

"That she finally found someone she cares enough about to settle down. I really wish them well."

"I do to," Holly said before getting up.

"Where are you going?" Roger said.

"To take the food back inside. If we leave that fish in the BBQ overnight, who knows what kind of creatures are going to crawl up here to snack on it?"

"You're right, my cuisine is irresistible. Let me give you a hand."

They worked quickly to get their untouched dinner inside, and then Roger asked Holly to get into her bathing suit so that they could get that evening swim she had been promising him. They changed and Roger lighted some torches on the patio before strolled down to the beach.

* * *

The water was cool and they had to jump in before they changed their mind. They swan toward each other and embraced, as if their bodies were covered in magnets.

"There's another person who called me today," Roger said after a while, between kisses.

"Let me guess, Jack?"

Roger nodded and Holly waited for him to go on. She knew that they had kept in touch after their departure from England, but that their contacts had been limited and awkward.

"We had a long talk; a good talk."

Holly let out a sigh of relief. She knew that he missed his friend more than he let on. "He told me that he finally sold his ranch. The manager bought it from him for a fair price."

"And?" Holly asked, even if she already knew.

"He's moving to Springfield for good. He bought a farm just outside of the city, and Blake will be moving in with him."

Holly resisted the urge to fist pump in the air. She had been in touch with her daughter regularly in the last months and she knew that Blake was happier than ever now that Jack was into her life.

"He really loves her," Roger said pensively.

"Why are you so surprised? Our daughter is quite a catch!"

"I know she is; I just thought that Jack was incapable of feeling this deeply about somebody."

Holly shook her head. "You men can be so blind sometimes. Don't you know how much he cares about you? That should be indication enough about the depth of his feelings."

Roger nuzzled his face in her neck, and then suddenly burst out laughing. "What?" Holly asked.

"He says that Blake is quite a handful. Stubborn as a mule."

"She said the same about him."

"Do you think that they'll make it?"

"Who knows? For the time being, all of the people that I care about are happy, and that makes happy."

Roger held her tighter, their bodies swayed gently by the waves. "Do you remember the night that I proposed to you?"

"How could I ever forget?"

They gazed at each other in silence before Roger resumed. "Are you still happy that you said yes?"

"Are you really asking me this? Why would I have any regrets?" Holly looked at him, genuinely puzzled.

"Well, the first few months of our honeymoon haven't been exactly restful."

"That's true, but it's been the most exciting time in my life so far, and the rest has been as romantic as could be. I can't imagine how I ever lived without you."

"Me neither. I feel a little stupid admitting this, but I wonder how it's going to be once we're back in Springfield. I'm not used to sharing you anymore." He looked a little ashamed as he said this.

"It's going to be different, but it's going to be good, you'll see. I'll be going back to WSPR, and you…well, we don't what you'll be doing yet, do we?" Holly said with a smile.

"I'll be going back to business eventually, with Blake, maybe, but not yet. Actually, I've been thinking a lot about that writing thing we've been discussing in Morocco."

"You mean when I said that I could write a book? You know, I'm not so sure about that anymore. Writing fiction is nothing like journalism, and I frankly don't think that I'm up for it anymore."

"Then how about I write one, and you give me a hand?"

Holly leaned back, speechless. "YOU want to write a book? What about?"

"I want to write my memoirs." He raised his hands before she could say anything. "I know it sounds conceited, as I'm not even fifty yet, but I really think that I might have something interesting to say."

Holly cradles his face in her hands. "Hey, I think it's a great idea. I just never pegged you for a writer, that's all. You can barely sit still!"

"I know I've always been more about acting than talking, but that's what made my life interesting. And you can't deny that some pretty incredible things have happened to me."

"Secret agent, successful entrepreneur, millionnaire. I wouldn't be surprised if you turned out to be Batman as well! » Holly said teasing.

"Laugh all you want. You're the most incredible thing that has happened to me of all."

Holly stopped laughing and her eyes became misty. "It's the same for me. This book of yours will be wonderful, I can feel it."

"As will our life, and whenever we fill like getting away from things, we can always come back here," Roger said, nodding towards the house that was quickly disappearing from view in the dusk.

"If it's available for rent."

Roger smirked and replied enigmatically "I don't think it's going to be a problem."

"Why? Wait a minute, what have you done?"

Roger beamed at her, unable to keep his secret any longer. "I wanted to tell you the last day before we left, but you've been getting so sad about leaving that I just have to tell you now."

"Tell me what?" Holly said, practically shaking him. Her heart was racing.

"I've been racking my brains for the perfect honeymoon present for you for months, then last month it hit me. This house."

"You bought the house?" Holly asked incredulously.

"I did, and it's yours now. You can finally get rid of the wallpaper in the kitchen!" Roger said, laughing.

They hugged for several minutes and until Roger realized that Holly was sobbing silently. He wiped her tears away. "These are happy tears, right?"

"Yes!" Holly said, taking a deep breath. "Sometimes I think that it's too much happiness for me to handle! And to think that I gave you nothing."

"You gave me a daughter. It's pretty hard to top."

"God, I love you!"

"And I love you."

"I can't wait to go back now that I know that we can come back here whenever we want."

"Our life together will be the best, Hol, you'll see."

They kissed and walked out of the water. The rest of their life awaited them.

_Thanks to everyone who's been reading until the end, I hope you enjoyed it! _


End file.
